Still on London Time in New York
by Babatomyfriends
Summary: No summary really needed because you all know the story already. It's just a variation of something that's been done countless times already, probably much better too. But this is my very first fanfic and I wanted to start on familiar grounds, plus I really needed to write this. I do have some original stories in mind though, for later. If this works out. Thanks for reading!
1. Chapter 1 Chandler and the two guys

When their plane finally approached New York and started the slow descent to JFK airport, Chandler mentally crossed off the option of more sex with Monica and sighed deeply. They had left international waters. London was behind them, was over. Over and done with. The 'Not-in-New-York-Rule' was now firmly enforced. There was nothing he could do about it.

Next to him Joey squirmed in his seat and craned his head trying to catch sight of a familiar landmark through the window across the aisle and the next row – of the Twin Towers probably, or the Empire State Building or even his favorite sandwich place, for all Chandler knew. He nearly upset the tray that still held the three mini bottles that Chandler had recklessly ordered when Joey had started pouring out all his worries and troubles about being a bad actor to him and just wouldn't leave off. The booze hadn't helped really, only given him a slight buzz. And a heartburn.

Chandler risked a short glance over the back of his seat. Monica was in her seat, very prim and upright, already belted in. He couldn't read her expression, it could be pensive, or bored or maybe even a little sad. She was always so controlled it was hard to tell. He couldn't believe that this was the same woman who had waited half an hour at the toilets for him so they could have one last quickie before New York. If only Joey … but it was no use.

Just when he decided a little wave or wink might be in order, the intercom crackled and the captain announced their ETA, the current weather conditions and the time. Monica immediately looked at her watch and then took it off and changed the time, with a faintly pleased smile. Chandler knew that she loved doing things like that, loved to feel efficient and exact all the time. It probably wouldn't occur to her that resetting her watch meant that she too had left London time behind for good. Or maybe she had resigned herself to it now, abandoned all hope for one more little continuation of their fling. It would be so like her to close the chapter, draw the line, never look back. Maybe she wasn't even all that sad about it. Maybe she was even relieved.

Chandler turned around again. He still couldn't make up his mind whether he himself should be sad or relieved that it was over. Yes, it had been great, unbelievably exhilarating and so much fun. Even in his wildest dreams he had never imagined that something like this could happen. And yes, it had been awkward too, with some – okay, quite a few – cringe-worthy moments. Like when Joey had nearly surprised them and jumped to that erroneous, but still horribly embarrassing conclusion about what he was doing in bed with the TV off. And Ross barging into the room in the morning – thank God he had just woken up and managed to pull the covers over Monica, before her brother could see her. And facing Monica afterwards when Ross had left. No matter how great that night had been, right then it had all felt so stupid and pathetic. And wrong. Plus there had been that crazy persistent fear that they had been found out, that everybody already knew about them and was horrified – or worse, laughed at them. It took him ages to get things into perspective again. So they had sex, okay, no big deal. It wasn't the end of the world. And by the time the wedding ceremony started, he had pretty much rationalized it. And when it turned out that Monica was thinking pretty much along his lines too and wasn't averse to a little extension of their London affair, things had definitely looked up again. True, it had been rather frustrating not to find a place where they could have a go at it without being disturbed, but it had been so much fun too. And the most amazing thing about it was that he and Monica had been so much of a mind, so much in tune. No matter what happened, she had played along with an enthusiasm that was exhilarating and quite breathtaking. Chandler grinned to himself. That was the Gellers for you, they always gave everything and you had to struggle to keep up. Maybe he should consider himself lucky to have gotten off so lightly.

Whatever, it was over now. Over and done with.

Was it? A voice in his head suddenly spoke up. Can't we still consider it? I mean, dude, this is about sex! Really great sex! And there could be more! You only have to want it!

The voice belonged to guy #1. Chandler almost groaned aloud. It had been a while since the two guys in his head had gotten into an argument. The last time had been when he fell for Kathy while she was still Joey's girlfriend, and look how that turned out – those six hours in that damn box had not even been the worst.

Forget it, said guy #2. It's over. Finished. You should look forward. You should be glad it didn't really damage your friendship. Now you have to think about how to behave around her so the others won't notice. Think about how to be just friends again. Try to forget it ever happened. She will want it that way. See if she doesn't.

But it had been so good. They had "agreed" so well, so blindly, every single time, and it had felt so incredibly great. He had wanted it to never end. Oh yes, one more time would have been sooo good …

One more time … one more time … one more time … ooooohoooohoooh … guy #1 sneered aping a song that Chandler couldn't place, where the singer apparently was down on his knees begging. What was it, something to do with Miami Vice? No… ah, yes, Phil Collins. It was called 'One more Night' though. But he'd settle for one more time.

Get a grip! You can have it, you just have to want it! Of course Monica will want it too, and you won't need to beg her! You just have to give her a reason that's good enough!

Guy #2 scoffed. You think? Do you not know Monica? You can't just have sex with her again! She will think it's serious, and then she will be hurt. And then you can't be friends anymore and the group will be destroyed. Because of you. Is that worth it? Is it?

The seat-belt lights went ping. The plane kept sinking as they approached the airport. Chandler closed his seat-belt, had to open it again to assist Joey to put on his and pick up his half eaten sandwich that had fallen from his lap, and finally managed to buckle up just before touchdown. Then came the cruise along the roll-way, the stop and the usual confusion when everybody got out of their seats at once and bumped into each other in the aisles. Chandler held Joey back, grinning at Monica, who – naturally - had kept serenely to her seat. When the plane had emptied somewhat they got up, collected their stuff and went to the exits. Once out of the plane Monica immediately took the lead and almost ran down the tunnel to customs. Then there was the enervating wait at the baggage claims, where they once again had to keep Joey from climbing on the belt, then the ritual of the security barrier, which Monica once again triumphantly cleared without setting it off and the customs officer who took one disgusted look at Joey's duffel and waved them through. Finally they were in the hall. Joey craned his head looking for someone familiar at the arrivals and failed.

"Where's Phoebe? I thought she'd pick us up!"

"Joey!" Monica rolled her eyes. "She's over 8 months pregnant, with triplets, she won't even fit behind the wheel anymore. How can you expect her to come here? It's much too exhausting for her."

Finally they secured a cab, after Monica and Joey had argued about the English money he had kept ('how can it be so much? What do you mean, I can't pay with it? Its money, isn't it?') and Monica fussed that her bag would get dirty in the trunk. Apart from some standard jokes to defuse the tension Chandler kept quiet most of the time. In his head guy #1 and guy #2 were still going at it. One more time or no more time? Was it worth it? Could he risk it? Would Monica even agree? He stole a look at her while Joey swapped stories with the cabdriver and felt that guy #1 had a point. It would be worth the risk. So much. That thin red summer dress looked so hot on her, and he was pretty sure she was wearing no bra … And of course, it had to be at that exact moment that she look around and catch him looking at her breasts. For one hot moment their eyes met and Chandler felt himself blushing furiously. Before he looked away, he noticed however that she had blushed too and that comforted him a little.

It took them over an hour to Manhattan, partly because Joey insisted that they stop at one of his favorite sandwich places, to pick up what he called his dinner. When Chandler pointed out that it was just 2 hours past noon, he got indignant.

"What do you mean? It's 7 p.m. on my watch! That means dinner!"

"Joey! You haven't changed your watch yet?! It's 2 p.m. here! Look!" Monica held out her wrist. Joey's jaw dropped. "But it was noon when we left London!"

"Wow, it's like time travel!" said Chandler absentmindedly – he wasn't on his best form. The two guys in his head had again picked up where they left off.

In the end Monica changed Joey's watch for him and changed some of his English money too, after berating him for having spent so much.

"What on earth did you buy that cost so much?"

"I dunno … strawberries? I think they cost the most."

"Don't forget the hat" Chandler put in. "You gave the guy far too much for it."

Joey pouted and then pointed an accusing finger.

"How come you remember so much of it? You fell into the flower stand!"

"You did what?!" And of course Monica had to hear the whole story while Chandler sat by fuming.

He loved Joey. They were the best roommates ever. Without Joey his life would be utter misery, just daily boring work routine and lonely evenings. Joey had turned his life around and he was really grateful. But sometimes … Sometimes his buddy was really hard to take.

After Joey's sandwich(es) had been secured they finally arrived at Bedford Street. Home again. There was the familiar building. They got out of the cab and retrieved their luggage, then they climbed up the stairs. Chandler and Joey just shoved their luggage into the kitchen of no. 19 before they all stormed into no. 20 together where Phoebe, cheerfully balancing a bowl of Muesli on her huge belly, welcomed them enthusiastically. All at once Chandler felt relieved. It was over, nothing could possibly happen anymore. Definitely. Not with the others around, not here in the familiar kitchen. It simply had no place here. Already London started to feel like a dream to him. Now Phoebe hugged them and cheered and then started to tell them off.

"You had meat!" she glared at Joey who could only shrug sheepishly. And then "You had sex!" at Monica and Chandler. Monica stared in shock and Chandler's jaw dropped. How was that possible?! How could she know? Granted she was weird like that, but still ..?

"No, we didn't!" he protested. Deny it, deny it, whatever happens … But Phoebe had dismissed him already.

"I know you didn't. I'm talking about Monica." Chandler pretended to be hurt while he was secretly relieved. And for once fiercely glad that Phoebe never really took him serious.

"Phoebe I did not have sex!" Monica exclaimed, very earnest and self-righteous. It didn't look very convincing, but seemed to work on Phoebe at least.

"This pregnancy is throwing me all off!" she complained. "AND making me fat." Chandler started breathing again.

And then Joey wanted to check on the chick and the duck, and Phoebe decided all at once that she had to leave, and the door closed behind them … and suddenly, for the first time since they stormed into the Honeymoon Suite in London, Monica and Chandler were alone with each other. Finally alone – but too late.

They looked at each other and found they couldn't meet each other's eyes. Monica chuckled nervously.

"Well … we certainly are alone ..." she said conversationally. He could tell how nervous she was. His mind went blank. Even guy #1 and guy #2 had fallen silent.

"Yes … good thing we had that 'Not-in-New-York-Rule'" he exclaimed and then wanted to kick himself. Whywhywhy say that of all things? He didn't want to remind her of the Rule! Or did he? Did she want to be reminded?

Cheeks flaming Chandler went to the fridge just to give himself something to do. He took out an apple and threw it from one hand to the other, of course almost dropping it. At least it calmed him a little and he could face her again. Oh boy, she had taken of her jacket. Her shoulders were bare, except for those thin straps … and definitely no bra.

"Right. And since we're on that subject …" Here it comes, he thought. Friendship is more important, the group comes first, let's forget it ever happened – oh, did something happen? Haha …

".. um, I just wanted to tell you that – uh, well, I was going through a really hard time in London, what with my brother getting married and that guy thinking I was Ross's mother …"

Chandler grinned broadly. "Right." Yeah, right, that idiotic hammered guy, who would never ever know how grateful Chandler was to him, for all times. He deserved a medal. At least.

".. well, anyway, I – that night meant a lot to me. I guess I'm just trying to say thanks."

And she smiled at him, looking so sweet. It hadn't been quite what he had expected and as always, when he didn't have time to think about what to say, what he said came from his heart, not his brain.

"Oh. You know, that night meant a lot to me too. And it wasn't because I was in a bad place or anything, it just meant a lot to me, because …"

What exactly? How could he express it? The miraculousness of it, that nothing remotely like it had ever happened to him before? The two guys were silent. Naturally. Except that guy #1 did make a halfhearted suggestion.

".. you're really hot!" he blurted out. And wanted to kick himself again. But wait, she seemed to like it. At least she smiled.

"Is that okay?" At this she laughed outright.

"That's okay." She really seemed amused and also somehow relieved … and happy. In the back of his mind Chandler suddenly realized that more than anything else he wanted her to be happy.

"And I'm cute too." That was guy #1, fishing for compliments. He desperately needed her to confirm that she still liked him. That everything was just like before. That nothing had been spoiled or even threatened. Everything was okay.

"And you're cute too!" she confirmed, still laughing and held out her arms to him for a hug. Just a friendly meaningless hug.

"Thank you …!" Chandler hugged her briefly, taking care not to draw her too close and letting go almost immediately. Still he caught a little of her scent, her body warmth, the feel of her … Suddenly he desperately needed to get away from all this, get some peace and quiet, get a chance to think about everything. Or forget.

"All right. I gotta go unpack." Another smile. Just play it cool man.

"Okay." They high-fived and he went to the door. Monica remained standing where she was and all of a sudden Chandler needed to see her face, to make sure he hadn't been mistaken about her. Was she really cheerful again, or had it all been fake, for his sake? Already in the door he turned once more and threw her a smile.

"Bye." And she was still standing there, watching him, looking … how? Amused? Wistful? Glad to be alone? Or not? He closed the door behind him and went into no. 19. The apartment was quiet. The door to Joey's room was closed and the awful sounds emanating from it told Chandler that Joey's jet-lag had finally caught up with his overdue naptime and that his roommate would probably be out cold until next morning at least. He was on his own. He noticed that he still held the apple and put it on the foosball table.

Guy #1 hesitantly cleared his throat.

DUUU-UUUDDE! Hello? Did you see how she looked at you just now? She still wants it! Think! Just one stupid reason, that's all it needs, and you can do it again!

But the Rule – began guy #2.

Screw the rule! Rules can be broken. Rules are meant to be broken. Dude, you just need a reason, how hard can that be?! It's easy! 'International waters' was soo lame and yet good enough for her…?!

Chandler's mind raced. He swallowed. Remembered her scent. That she wore no bra. Her face when he looked back.

Two seconds later he strode through the door of no. 20 again. Part of him expected her to be gone from the kitchen, in her room unpacking or the bathroom. But glory be, praised be all the saints, she still stood there, as if … as if she hadn't been able to give up either. As if she wanted him to come back. And now – a reason, please god, just any stupid reason … Oh alright.

"I'm still on London time, does that count?!"

He saw her eyes light up. Oh sweet good lord.

"Oohh that counts!" Firmly and decisively, lending weight to it and making it true.

"OH GOOOOD .." It was like a huge weight had been lifted from him. He wanted to dance and sing, but of course there was no time. So guy #1 did the dance for him in his head while he pulled Monica close. She threw her arms around him and as they kissed he could have sworn a long and loud cheer was raised that wouldn't stop.


	2. Chapter 2: Monica & the little fat girl

2 days earlier, London, 9 p.m.

She couldn't go to bed yet. It was out of the question. For one thing it was still early. Just gone 9. Also, if she went to bed in her current mood, it would only get worse and worse. She'd toss and turn, find no rest, get another drink from the minibar, feel bad about the price of the drink, drink it anyway, and in the end cry herself to sleep. And in the morning she would look (and feel) like something the cat dragged in. Not really appropriate for a bridesmaid.

If only. If only. If only.

If only that idiot guy hadn't taken her for Ross's mother. If only she hadn't listened to him. If only her mother had left her alone. If only it was her that was getting married and not Ross – for the second time already while she didn't even have a boyfriend. And ah yes, the all-time topper – if only she had a boyfriend. There hadn't been anyone for so long. And why again was she always attracted to guys that turned out to have something fundamentally wrong with them? Richard had been nearly perfect, but when it turned out he didn't want kids (at least he had been honest about that), she also had to realize that he was too old and set in his ways. Pete had been too gawky and awkward at first and when they had made a go of it after all, he had to go all nuts with that Ultimate Championship thing. She had loved him, but when he allowed himself to be beaten to a pulp right in front of her, she had no choice but to quit. Timothy was nice, but too much Richard's son, and she was glad there had only been that one kiss. Julio – urgh, best not go there. Fun Bobby was an alcoholic and no fun at all anymore, drunk or not. Ethan was too young. Alan had not really cared enough. Oh good lord, everybody, everyfuckingbody had something wrong with them! It was like her love life was jinxed. Doomed. Forever.

Monica sat on the bed she vaguely thought of as 'hers' even though it didn't matter since Rachel hadn't come. Which was a pity. It would have complicated things with Ross and Emily, true, but maybe it would have taken a bit of the heat off from her – ah, well, who was she kidding. It wouldn't have made any difference, only given Emily one more thing to worry about. She sighed, finished her glass in one go, got up again and went to the Minibar.

She took out the whiskey bottle, winced at the price, and put it back again. Then gritted her teeth, took it out again, sloshed the whiskey in her glass and knocked half of it back. And then she noticed the chips. And the mini salamis. And the nuts assortment. And a small voice inside her spoke up.

Eat it. Eat everything … you'll feel better. Get into your jammies, turn on the TV, get into bed and eat.

Monica's eyes glazed over. She could taste the chips already, washed down with coke (and no diet coke this time, the real stuff or nothing) and chased by salami. Or maybe she could ask the front desk how to go about ordering a pizza, and the pizza place probably offered desserts too, chocolate pudding or cookies even if she was lucky. She could pig herself as much as she wanted. Nobody would care.

YAY, let's do that! YUM!

That was the fat girl in her head. It was rare to speak up for her nowadays, and most of the times Monica dismissed her without batting an eyelid. Teenage Monica had never been able to resist that voice, never even wanted to, but adult Monica had it much easier because there was always someone around to look after her, watch her giving in and get her to stop herself in time. Only now …

Now she was alone. Nobody was around. Nobody to talk to, to distract her. Anyway, just about the only thing that could stop a feeding frenzy once she had begun to think about it, was company. Someone to talk to, to be with, share something with … a movie, a game, a cuddle … or best of all, sex.

Just sex, just the physical act, something to lose herself in and make her forget everything for a while. She could masturbate – actually she had gotten quite good at it in the last boyfriendless year. By now she could think herself into climaxing and in under a minute too. But would that be enough now? Enough to forego the pizza and the chips and the coke and the chocolate pudding and/or cookies?

No way. She would like to think so – above all else Monica loved to be self-sufficient and independent – but with the amount of alcohol in her and all her emotional defenses down, she thought masturbation would only make it worse. And she still would end up pigging herself in front of the TV. Just a bit sweatier and more relaxed.

So sex, okay, but with who (or whom? Damn, she was really drunk). Actually, for providing good quality sex with no questions asked there was only one readily available guy with the right references. Joey. Or was he available? Monica frowned. She hadn't paid attention to him at the dinner, because she had felt too sorry for Chandler with his bungled Best Man speech – and of course for herself. She only dimly remembered Joey being homesick and wanting to leave. That would be perfect – he would need distraction as much as herself. It was still early enough for him to still be up, probably watching TV in bed and be bored out of his mind. If she could get him to her room, the rest would be no problem. Not with Joey. She was sure about it. Yes, he would have doubts, but if she played her cards right … And anything was better than the feeding feast Little Fat Girl had in her mind.

She was already halfway to the door when it occurred to her that she had brought no condoms (and why should she have?) and Joey might chicken out after all if there was a delay and he got enough time to reconsider. Where could she get condoms? Was there a vending machine in the public toilet downstairs? Or wait … She went into the bathroom and rummaged in her toiletry bag. Yes, there it was, her diaphragm. She had no idea why she had left it in the bag when she packed for London, except that she didn't like to leave it lying around in her bathroom and have one of the guys (especially Ross …) ask her about it. They seemed to use her bathroom more often than their own, not that she could blame them.

The diaphragm would be enough, she was very sure she was well past the fertile time in her cycle anyway. Not that it had mattered in the past months, but she had always liked to know what was going on in her body and always kept track. And look how it had paid off now.

She hitched up her dress, took off her panties and put the diaphragm in sitting on the toilet. When she was finished she started drawing her panties up, then reconsidered and took them off again, and her bra too. Telling Joey she was going commando would be a surefire thing to shorten out his brain and let his libido take over. The dress was easy to slip out off once she loosened the zipper at the back. Perfect.

She took the whiskey glass, because it was still half full and also to have something to hold onto, and shut the door behind her. There was nobody in the hallway. Chandler and Joey's room was five doors down. She set out purposefully, one hand clenching the glass and the key card in the other. Why hadn't she brought a bag? Too late to go back, it might change her mind. Yet halfway down the hall she slowed anyway.

Oh God. What if he's not there? What if Chandler's there too? Wouldn't he suspect something? Of course he would. She didn't like to admit it, but Chandler was the one guy who probably knew her best of all, maybe better than Phoebe, let alone Rachel (who was always too self involved in Monica's opinion). Chandler did care about her, always had, as much – or probably more – than she cared about him. True, that quick sarcastic tongue of his usually kept her at a certain distance – that and all his self-deprecating jokes that only irritated her. She hated it when men thought too little of themselves, she was too insecure in herself, thank you very much. Yet there were a lot of good sides to Chandler. He could be thoughtful and caring and almost as anxious to please as she was herself. It had really impressed her when he had asked her advice about sex with Kathy, especially since he seemed to have followed it so well. And even though the horrible thing with the jellyfish last summer had completely freaked her out (just the idea that someone actually peed on her still made her shudder) she had to admit that it had been really brave and selfless on his part, especially so since even Joey hadn't been able to go through with it. And in the aftermath of the breakup with Kathy he had kept blaming himself and his misery had touched her much more than all of Ross's and Rachel's wallowings in drama combined had ever done.

So, the chance of having Chandler suspect even a little of her motifs of luring Joey away was almost enough to put her off altogether. Now what?

He might not be there. He could have gone back to the party. It wasn't inconceivable.

I'll just make sure, she thought. If there's a light under the door, I'll knock. If it's dark, I'll look for Joey downstairs. That is, if mom and dad aren't still around. Well, we'll cross that bridge …

There was light under the door. Monica took a deep breath and knocked. Inside it was rather quiet – too quiet. No TV sounds. Wouldn't Joey watch TV?

The door was opened and there was Chandler, resplendent in blue cowboy pajamas. She almost laughed out loud. She hadn't seen these particular pjs before, since back home he usually went to bed in his boxers and a t-shirt, but obviously he was uncomfortable with anything less than an official nightwear set when traveling – just like her actually. She was sure that he had packed a bathrobe too, even though the hotel always provided them.

"Hey!" he said, a little surprised and maybe even pleased a bit. Somehow this set her on edge.

"Cute pjs!" she teased him. "You're really living it up here in London, huh?"

He just grinned, and she remembered how he had explained to her that he didn't embarrass that easy anymore. Not since his mother had bought him a speedo for the school swim competition, and condoms when he had his first girlfriend – that is, pretended to have a girlfriend. Okay, but it was still mean. Down Geller. Don't take it out on him.

"Well, I wasn't exactly expecting company after .." he glanced at this watch ".. 9:15. .."

He looked so dismayed she almost felt sorry for him, then he shrugged it off just like that. Typical. When he stepped aside to let her in, she saw what she had suspected before – he was alone. The far bed was still covered up and quite obviously not used. Still she had to make sure.

"Is Joey here?"

"Well, the last time I saw him he was heading out the door with his bridesmaid and a bucket of strawberries." Chandler said dryly and shut the door. Monica wanted to kick herself. How could she have forgotten the bridesmaid? She had approached Joey as soon as he finished his homesicknessladen speech and of course Joey of all people would never pass a chance like this up. Oh god, what now? Pizza after all?

"So, you're still not upset about what that guy told you, are you?"

Monica realized that Chandler sounded really concerned. Just like when he had brought her to her room after that debacle at the reception when that idiot drunk had taken her for Ross's mother ... urgh, it still hurt to think about it. Yet Chandler had been so sweet. It would have been so easy, even natural for him to add to her anguish by teasing her, but instead he had tried to console and calm her, and then managed to take her away before something even more horrible could happen. She really ought to be more gracious.

"Well, wouldn't you be?" But even as she said it, she realized it didn't hurt that much anymore. It was just the booze making her maudlin and self-pitying. Already she was getting over it. She put the glass on the table and vowed to stop drinking. There, that felt better already.

And Chandler, dear Chandler, took up immediately where he had left in front of her room earlier.

"Well, look, it's been a really emotional time for you, and you've had a lot to drink. You've just GOT to let that GO, okay?"

Monica stared at him, her emotional defenses still down, but her brain slowly clearing, and now focusing on a new target. Funny how she had never really noticed how cute he was. Standing there in his boyish pjs and staring earnestly at her (but somehow they still looked nice on him, the blue color accented his eyes …) and gesturing wildly. So cute and cuddly. So … appealing.

"I mean you were the most beautiful woman in the room tonight!"

It was as if something in her brain had shifted. There were goosebumps running up and down her spine. Chandler. Chandler admiring her? And now could she really be attracted to him? Oh my god, she couldn't believe it.

"Really?" It couldn't be, and yet … he really did look handsome. Even a little hot with that tousled hair and those blue eyes. Now if he really meant what he said –

"Are you kidding? You're the most beautiful woman in most rooms …"

That did it. Before she could stop herself she jumped at him, threw her arms around his shoulders and desperately pressed her lips on his. He stumbled and made a surprised mumpfh sound, but caught himself again just when she thought he would crumple on her again, as he had once when she had sailed into him on her roller skates. And then – glory be, praised be that typical male instinct to hold on no matter what – she felt his arms go around her as they steadied into the kiss. AND kissed her back. Just a little, probably by instinct too, but still …

And my, wasn't it good? It did feel good. His body felt good too against hers. He was so warm and strong, and he smelled good too. The pjs were obviously freshly laundered – always a turn-on for her - and quite as obviously he had brushed his teeth recently.

Then – much too soon – he let her go and stepped back, staring at her completely bewildered. If only they could skip that part ….

"Whoawhoawhoa – what's going on?! You and I just made out! You and I are making out?!"

"Well, not anymore …" Now she had done it, freaked him out. And it had been so good! Please god, don't let him freak out, I really need this, I can't bear to lose it again …

"But we don't do that." That still sounded just bewildered, not indignant. Maybe there was hope after all.

"I know, I just thought it would be fun." She was pleading now. Oh god. Don't make me beg him. But if that's what it takes … He stared at her, mouth working and eyes shifting, obviously working on the pros and cons. God, guys could be so easy to read sometimes. Make that most of the times.

"How drunk are you?" he asked abruptly. Ah, that was better, she could work with that.

"Drunk enough to know that I want to do this. Not so drunk that you should feel guilty about taking advantage." She shot back. He absorbed it quietly, still looking at her, working it out –

And then he took the plunge. Glory be.

"Wow, that's the perfect amount!"

"Okay!" She wanted to cheer and jump with joy, but there was no time for that, he had gotten hold of her again already and drew her to the bed. They sat down and this time he kissed her, with no hesitation at all. She marveled how fast he had made up his mind. Maybe he had had a bit too much to drink too? Even better. She closed her eyes and lost herself in the kiss, the feel of his lips, his breath on her cheek, his hands on her waist, his shoulders, his hair … It was sooo good, just what she had wanted, exactly what the doctor ordered, so absolutely and so weirdly perfect …

She hadn't even noticed that she had drawn back until she spoke her thought aloud.

"You know what's weird?"

Chandler looked dazed. "What?"

"This doesn't feel weird!"

His eyes regained focus again. "I know!" And oh, he sounded so awed. So he really understood, felt exactly like she did. How perfect was that?

"You're a really good kisser." It was the absolute truth. So far, his kissing was definitely among the top three. At least. Aww, and there was that cute, self-deprecating grin of his.

"Well, I have kissed over four women." Of course he had to squeeze in a joke. This was Chandler. But she let it go, because he immediately kissed her again. AND took the initiative again – more points for him.

"Do you want to get under the covers?"

Did she?! Did the pope … no time for that now, because hell, yeah!

All of a sudden the need was there, the desire, so urgent it made her head spin. She jumped up and barely beat Chandler to the head of the bed, kicked off her shoes on the way so they landed almost at the bathroom door, loosened the dress, slid under the covers and let it slide down her body all in the same motion, pushed it to her feet – and then watched Chandler making a great show of kicking and tearing his way out of his pjs as if he had to free himself from a bunch of tentacles that were suffocating him. His pants almost landed on Joey's bed and his jacket followed suit. It was exhilarating to see him in such a tearing hurry.

"Wow, you are really fast!"

That instantly put him into his dry humor mood again. "It bodes well for me that speed impresses you." Did he really have to do that all the time? But then, oh well, why not? She wasn't feeling really romantic after all. Romance had no place here, she wanted sex, not emotions, and if they had to make a game of it for it to work, so be it.

"We could see each other naked." She offered. Come on, come on …

"Yep!" His eyes gleamed. Yes, he was game.

"Do you wanna do it at the same time?"

"Count of three?" Definitely on the game. She was so happy she wanted to sing.

"One!"

"Two!" "Two!"

"Three!" Simultaneously.

Up went the covers. It gave her a rush just to see him looking at her, take in her body, to feel his gaze on her breasts, her belly, her mound … And looking at him even heightened the rush. He was not as thin as she had always thought him to be, apparently he had filled out a little in the last year or so without her really noticing. His ribs weren't visible any more at least. The amount of chest hair was just right, not too much and not too little – she hated it when guys were totally smooth, it made them look like mannequins. And that cute hairline going down to his navel and beyond … and oh my, who would have thought really he was that packing? AND already good to go. Wow. Wow. Wow! How lucky could you get?! When they put the covers down again she couldn't stop smiling. Chandler was searching for words, not that she cared.

"Well I think it's safe to say that our friendship is effectively ruined."

So? Who cares? She didn't!

"Eh, we weren't that close anyway!" Maybe not the whole truth, but screw it.

"Eh!" he agreed and reached out for her as she reached out for him, pressed against him and kissed him, wildly excited now. His erect penis poked her belly and she shifted, trying to slide her leg over his hip and get him on top … Suddenly he pushed her away and frantically pulled the covers over her.

"Joey, Joey, Jojojo-joey..!" he gasped and then she heard it too, the clumsy fumbling at the unfamiliar door-lock, until finally figuring it out. Chandler lay back with his arm lightly over her head, holding her in place. Monica froze, hardly daring to breathe, and absolutely not daring to take away her hand that was still on Chandler's stomach. Please don't let Joey notice anything. Please let him be gone quick. Was he alone? Or did he bring that bridesmaid? What was her name again? Felicity? Why did that matter now? Oh God…

"Hey Joe!" Good, he almost sounded normal. "I was just watching a movie-e-e…" Shoot. Not so good. She felt him cringe under her hand. Now Joey said something, but she couldn't really catch it through the covers. Chandler protested loudly, then Joey said something again, longer this time.

"They're in my bag over there." Calmer now. A pause and then -

"Um, could you leave me one?"

No! We don't need one! It'll only make him suspicious! Still, he deserved even more points for thinking ahead, even in such an absurd situation.

There was more talking and fobbing off on Chandler's side and then she heard Joey coming closer – nooo! – and more talking.

"All right, here you go buddy. Go nuts!"

Will do, never fear. Now get out! Oh thank God, that was the door. About time really, it was getting good and hot under the covers. And she couldn't breathe properly. She withdrew her hand just as Chandler shifted and pulled back the covers. They stared at each other gasping for breath and Chandler held out the condom to her with a half deprecating, half triumphant grin. He was still blushing, but she couldn't care less. She took the condom and put it on the night table, then she pulled him close.

"We don't need it!" she whispered. "I've put my diaphragm in … yes I'm sure. It's safe. But that was quick thinking." He breathed out and returned her kiss and they sank back on the pillows. Monica pressed against him hungrily and rubbed her breasts against his chest. God, it felt so good. It had been so long, she couldn't wait anymore. She slid her leg up his waist, pressed her calf against his ass to get him closer still, against her, on top of her …

"Please, please, I'm ready, I really … oh God … yes …" Bless him, oh bless him for not wasting any more time. He rolled on top and slid his hands under her, one under her shoulders and one under her ass, lifting and pressing her against him while he tried to get the angle right. Panting and trembling she took him in hand and guided him inside. Then he didn't need any more help.

"Ah! Ah! Oh yes! .. ah – oh mmmmhpf.. mmmh.."

It was much too hasty, too much of a rush-job to deserve any labeling as truly great sex, but as a start it was just what she needed. She had been so achingly ready, so desperately impatient that she was simply unable to draw it out. It was like in her teenage days when she had spent the whole evening buying or later preparing as much food as she could and then gorge herself on it, stuffing everything in her mouth as fast as it would go, getting hiccups and stomach cramps, breathing some of it in accidentally and coughing it up again, and never getting enough. It was great while it lasted and always over too quickly. Usually she tried not to let that happen when she had sex, but this time … this time she just had to have it this way.

Fortunately Chandler didn't seem to mind. It even seemed to her that he understood her need and tried to fulfill it. At least he did a great job of holding her down and pounding into her exactly like she wanted him too, panting harder and harder yet never pausing. Within minutes she climaxed, screaming and digging her nails into his back and ass, and he never even flinched, but just held her until her shuddering eased. Then he lay still and buried his head in her neck, gently nibbling at her clavicle.

"Wooooowww" he breathed at last. "That was fast. Are you okay?"

"Uh huh. Yep. Never better." She was still out of breath, but she did feel better. The urgency was gone. She felt herself relax, muscle by muscle. Then she realized he was still hard.

"You? Did you …?"

"Nope. Held it in. Didn't want to .. waste it." He lifted his head a little and grinned at her. "It was a good warm-up though. Really fast, I mean … really –"

"Chandler. Shut up."

"Okay." He kissed her neck again, lingeringly, then proceeded downward to her breast, gently sucking up a bit of skin and letting it go again, lightly brushing his teeth over the nipples …

"Ooouuch!"

"Sorry. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to claw you like … oh god. No, there's no blood."

"Sure? Okay then." And he lowered himself again on her.

"I promise, I'll be more careful. Or maybe I could cut my nails?"

"No. No, it's okay. No, honestly, Monica, it's okay! Don't worry about it! It's nothing. It's better already. Truly!"

She lay back again and chuckled a little, then couldn't stop giggling. Chandler looked puzzled but laughed a little with her.

"What?"

"I dunno … maybe we could try handcuffs …"

"Yeah, I'm sure those are included in the standard services at Marriott's." She giggled harder at that.

"Or you could tie me up." He made a face at that and shook his head.

"Or not. Well, I'll be more careful. It just felt so good .."

"Glad to hear it" he murmured into her shoulder. "Always happy to serve." And then -

"Am I too heavy?"

"No." She started to put her arms around him, but he caught her wrists in his hands and stretched her arms out along with his, holding her down that way. "There. Now keep still. Keep still!" He had slid out of her during the process and she frantically tried to pull him in again with her legs. He wouldn't have it and she subsided again while he continued kissing and nibbling his way down her chest to her navel, kneeling over her. When she couldn't keep still, he sat on one of her legs and held the other down with his elbow. Just when she thought he would go all the way down, he went up again, this time on the other side, and kissed the sensitive area between her ribs and pelvis with more attention to detail than she could bear.

"Chandler, not that I'm complaining… ah, um, ah… definitely not complaining … ah… but … ah .. what are you doing ..? Don't you .. I mean, isn't it your turn ..?"

"It'll keep. Now you've done it, I've lost count .."

"What?"

"You know. I can't remember, was it five or three next?"

She stared at him, uncomprehending, until he grinned.

"Don't you remember? A two, a one, two, three, a three, a five, a four …"

"Oh my god!"

"You're welcome. A three-two; a two, a two-four-six .."

"Are you fucking kidding me? You learned that by heart?"

"Not quite, but it's coming back to me now … Ah yes … two-four-six …"

"Ahh! Argh! Stop it … stop it … ah, oh God …"

"Four-seven, five-seven … six-seven, seven, seven …"

"Seven, SEVEN, SEVEN, SEVEN!" She had wrenched her hands free and buried her fingers in his hair, pressing him into her and bucking her hips. He stroked her sides, up and down, thumbs sliding over her breasts until her climax released her and she fell back, panting and whimpering. Then he stretched out beside her. She wanted to relax and enjoy the aftermath, but it bothered her that he still hadn't got what he was due. More than due.

"Chandler, that was two for me and none for you –"

"Sshhh. Don't worry, we have plenty of time."

"But it's not fair!"

"Of course not. But that's the way it is. No, seriously, Monica, it's okay. It's easy for you, you can come out of your ears and still go on, but once I've come, that's pretty much it. Knock off. COB. Finale. Well, not always. But I really don't want to waste it."

"Oh. Wow. Only once? You're sure?"

"Fairly sure" he admitted. "Well… maybe twice. I'd say, with you, twice wouldn't be impossible. What about you? Can you get it two more times?"

"Two? How about three?"

"Three more? Wow, that would make it seven altogether. Yeah, let's try that … oumpfh! Um … Mmmmh … yeah, okay, alright, let's have you on top now … Ouuuhh … oh yes … oh yikes .. aaaaaargghhh … careful … aaaargghhh…"

"Don't be – mmph - such a baby."

"Alright. And you shouldn't talk with your mouth full – Okay. Okay. Ow. OWWW!"

"Hold it, hold it … yeah, that's … oh yes … there … Aaaahhhh…"

They continued for a while, finding a rhythm that suited them both, while Chandler stroked her hips and her sides and she held onto his shoulders and played with his nipples. Finally they sped it up and then at long last the count was 3 to 1.

Then she fell asleep. Sometimes it happened that way, that she went out like a light, falling into deep sleep from one moment to the next. When she woke again it was still dark outside. Chandler was lying on his side with his back to her and she could make out the faintly luminous dial of his watch. 3.40 a.m. She badly needed to pee. She tried to locate her dress under the covers, but couldn't find it and finally slid out of the bed and darted into the bathroom naked and shivering. When she had finished she was horribly afraid that the flush would wake Chandler up. It seemed almost deafening to her. She darted back to the bed and slipped under the covers, snagging the sheet in the hurry. Chandler turned on his back suddenly and sat up.

"Huh, what?!"

"Shh. It's okay. Sorry for waking you. Go back to sleep."

"Uhmm." He glanced at his watch and lay back again. "Oh god. Okay. Ah, um .. could you…?"

"Bathroom?"

"Yeah .."

"Sure." She turned her head while he got out of bed and padded to the bathroom, and waited, noting approvingly that he did wash his hands after. Then he came out again, turned out the light and climbed back into bed. For some moments they lay still, facing each other. Then Chandler cleared his throat.

"Sooo … you want to leave it at 3:1?"

"As if!"

"Ah okay."

In the end they did make it to 5:2. 7 in all. The magic number.

The inevitable letdown came in the morning, just after dawn. Monica woke to her brother's insanely enthusiastic shouting and spent half a minute of total terror and excruciating embarrassment before she realized that nothing had happened … yet. Or not?

"Do you think he saw me?" she asked wildly as she popped up from under the covers. Chandler shrugged helplessly. In the light of morning he looked just as embarrassed and terrified as she was. She couldn't bear to look at him and lay on her back propped up on her elbows instead, trying to calm down. Chandler clutched the covers to his chest and fumbled for words.

"Well, I've never .. done that with you before."

"Nope." Obviously.

"So .. ah, how are you? How are – you okay?"

"Yep, yep .." Just mad at herself for oversleeping and wanting to melt into the floor actually, but otherwise … "You?"

"Yes … Yes, uh-huh. You?" He finally looked at her and met her gaze. "We did you."

Now she started to feel sorry for him. And she really really had to leave.

"Well, I'd better get going."

"Oh yeah, absolutely!" he agreed. She slid to the side of the bed and then paused, hating herself for it, but knowing that she just couldn't possibly let him watch her get out of bed stark naked if her life depended on it. And where the hell was her dress?

"Could you not look?"

"I don't want to look!" Emphatically. Well, so far so good.

She found the dress bundled up at the foot of the bed, stepped into it and pulled up the zipper, gathered up her shoes and key card and almost ran to the door. There she paused helplessly – what if anyone saw her come out? What if Ross still barged about out there? What if her parents were up and saw her? Ohgodohgodohgod …

"Want me to check for you?" Chandler had come up behind her. For one wild moment she thought he was still naked, then she saw that he had put on his pajama pants. He opened the door, darted a look left and right and gave her a thumbs-up. She bolted from the room without even looking back and ran down the corridor. Only when she was back in her room did it occur to her that she ought to have thanked him at least, he really had been pretty decent about it all. Make that very decent. But she was too busy freaking out to really care.

It wasn't until shortly before the wedding ceremony that she finally had herself under control again and regained some perspective. There was really no reason to be so upset about it, nothing really dramatic had happened, nobody had a clue. Two good friends had helped each other out. No big deal. It didn't mean anything. Never had, never would.

The impending arrival of Rachel added to the distraction. She had been afraid of the moment when she and Chandler would have to walk down the aisle together, as if everybody would immediately find out once they got a good look at them together, but everything went fine. Still no big deal. When he hesitantly started to talk, she even found it in herself to act normally.

"What we did last night .. was …"

"Stupid." Keep smiling. Act normal.

"Totally crazy stupid." He was trying hard to appear normal too, nodding at people and smiling. This was getting to be fun.

"What were we thinking?"

His voice got more urgent. "I'm coming over tonight though, right?"

Ooops. Well. Well, it had been really good. Why on earth not?

"Oh yeah. Definitely."

And so they had started on that wonderfully fun but also rather frustrating game which rapidly developed into some kind of run-and-hide/searching quest, searching for a place, any place where they could have one more go at it and getting more desperate as time went on. Rachel had returned, Ross had bungled the wedding, Emily had vanished, everything went crazier by the minute and all they could think of was doing it once more, just the one time more. But it was no use. Even at their last resort, the honeymoon suite, they were interrupted before they had even turned down the covers. Chandler's quick wit saved them time and again, but it was hopeless. Their very last chance on the plane to New York when Chandler had the silly but great idea with the "international waters" didn't work out thanks to Joey. When she returned from her half hour wait at the toilets, Monica decided resolutely to cut her losses once and for all. Chandler was right, it wasn't meant to be and it did make that night more special. Something to be remembered, cherished even. But definitely over. Over and done with. After all, it didn't really make sense, what had just about worked in London could never ever work in New York, at home, in their daily routine, under the noses of their friends. No hope in hell. As nice as it would have been, it simply couldn't be. There was the Rule to consider. The sacred Rule. And their friends. The risk was just too great.

She held on to that thought, clung to it and resolutely pushed back every emotion, every tentative memory that stole into her brain during the remainder of the flight and their way home from the airport to Bedford St. By then she was pretty sure that Chandler was thinking along the same lines. Could be a part of him was still considering it – like in the cab when she caught him staring at her breasts for instance – but she knew he was just as concerned about their friendship and the risk to disrupting or even destroying the group as she was. They all had learned that lesson painfully and repeatedly while watching Ross and Rachel thrash out their relationship over and over again – always in front of them, rubbing it in while they could do nothing more than helplessly watch and try to calm the waters again after each storm. Thank God, they would have some days of peace from those two, until both were returned from wherever they were now – Monica did wonder vaguely about that, but was too tired to really care.

Finally the moment she had dreaded since they had landed came, sooner than she expected. She and Chandler were alone in her apartment, after Joey as well as Phoebe (who had shocked her to the core with her staggeringly astute observation) had unexpectedly left so unexpectedly. And she could not bear to look him in the eyes. It was so silly, they really ought to be able to talk about it. They were friends after all, had been for so long, had shared so much in the past. They had helped each other, consoled each other, laughed and cried together, fought and made up again. But now they had crossed that line, that boundary that had brought them so close physically but threatened to divide them now forever. Any why exactly? What was the big deal? They had had so much fun. It would have ended badly for her in London if it hadn't been for him and that night. That truly great night. Seven times! It was unbelievable. How could she have gotten so lucky? Why did she have to throw that away? Could nothing be salvaged?

Well, the least she could do was thank him. It was overdue really. First things first. And it would make her feel better.

He heard her out, fidgeting only a little, almost dropping the apple – so typical, and sooo cute – and then when he blurted out how much the night had meant to him too, because she was hot, she felt like a great weight had lifted from her. He was so sweet. Too bad they had to leave it like that. It seemed like such a waste of a good time. God knows there hadn't been much of a good time for her lately. For a long time actually. If only she could have it once again, once more, only one more time …

When they hugged, the brief physical contact set off a rush of emotions. Regret, disgust at her own weakness, struggle for rationality, relief that everything was okay, desire …

When he smiled at her over his shoulder at the door, she almost called him back. For a moment she felt herself swaying on the brink. Don't let him go, don't let him go, talk to him at least, he'll understand …

Then he was gone and she stood still, frozen in place by her indecisiveness. She felt torn – and then utterly lost. If only he would come back, if only he would take that decision from her … Like a sleepwalker she took a few steps towards the door. She could go to him, explain that they needed to talk about it a bit more …

No. She couldn't do that. It would be unfair. He would be afraid to hurt her feelings whatever decision he would make and in the end they would both be miserable. Better to end it now while there wasn't too much harm done.

The long empty afternoon stretched before her. She would unpack first, then clean – there would be a lot to clean after Phoebe's stay in the apartment for four days – and that at least would surely calm her down. By the evening she would have regained her balance again.

Or if not, you could always eat, the little fat girl whispered. Monica closed her eyes and for a moment desire overtook her, so strong it made her ache. No food whatever could ever fulfill that desire. Only that what she had just lost. Given away.

She took a deep breath and relaxed her hands again that had been clenched so tightly her nails had dug into her palms.

Then the door opened and Chandler came back, like the answer to a prayer. Monica stared at him open-mouthed, unbelieving. Oh sweet lord, he had come back. There he stood in the door staring at her while he sought for the right words and her heart went out to him. Go on, whatever you say, it'll be enough, because you came back.

"I'm still on London time, does that count?"

Of course it did. It was perfect. Truly and wonderfully perfect.


	3. 3: I'll never change my watch again

_A/N: For you out there who care about such things, I'm sorry that the second chapter was so long. I just couldn't seem to help it. This one's way shorter. I hope you like it. B._

.

Chandler had closed his eyes. The world around him had sunk away. The cheering had faded. The two guys in his head had fallen silent. There was only Monica, the feel of her mouth on his, her body pressing against his, her scent, everything about her that made his head spin, like her breath on his face which grew more and more rapid, just like his own. He held her head in his hands trying to kiss her even harder, almost as if he wanted to eat her face off. And she responded in the same manner, hungrily and greedy. She clawed at his jacket, then slid her hands under it and bunched up his shirt, tore his T-Shirt up and started to stroke his back, up and down his spine and along his sides. It made his knees go weak. She stepped backwards and drew him along, he clung to her head and shoulders, his mouth still on hers, and almost stumbled. Then they had reached the near couch end, but Monica pushed her hands against his chest and broke the kiss, panting open-mouthed and looking half crazed. And totally gorgeous. Chandler groaned and tried to resume the kiss, but Monica put her hand across his mouth.

"No … not here … someone might come in…" Chandler kissed her hand instead, sucked at her fingers, and she moaned and pressed herself against him again. "Bedroom – come on .. ooohh God …"

With a huge effort he let her go and just stood panting, clothes now completely disheveled, and his heart racing. When she took his hand and turned towards her bedroom her words finally made sense and he hurried after her, nearly upsetting the living room table. Then they were in her bedroom. Monica hurried to the window and let down the blinds, then opened it part-way so a slim bar of afternoon sunlight came in and some faint New York City noise. Chandler shut the door and turned the key for good measure, then he shrugged off his jacket and kicked off his shoes in the same motion. He put the jacket on the Spanish wall and pulled his shirt and T-shirt in a mighty heave together over his head. He thought he heard a button pop, but didn't care. Then came the pants, which went over the partition too, followed by his briefs and socks. He looked at Monica and found her standing by the bed staring at him with huge dark eyes, while she took out the scrunchie and shook her hair loose, her mouth half open, lips still swollen from their kiss. For a split second he felt shy and the awful realization of how huge this was loomed over him ready to engulf him. Then Monica held out her hands and he strode over to her and pulled her close. She moaned into the kiss and squirmed under his hands while he frantically groped for the zipper of her dress and finally pulled it down. She let the dress slide off her to the ground and stepped out of it, and yes, no bra, and just a little black thong, oh God, could she be any hotter? He pushed her towards the bed, nearly frantic now, and she lay down on it on her back and raised her hips inviting him to take the thong off. His hands shook as he pulled it down carefully and kissed her thighs and calves as it went. It caught on her sandal and he took them both off too and kissed her ankles while he was at it. Then she was naked on the bed, holding her arms out to him, her nipples two hard little nobs and her legs spread wide, and he almost felt faint with the sheer excitement of it. When he propped himself up over her and kissed her again, her hands fluttered over his back and sides, she hooked up a leg over his lower back and stroked his buttocks and thighs with her foot. One hand trailed the line of hair from his navel to his groin and closed around his erection.

"Nice and slow this time" she whispered. "But not too slow."

"Yes ma'am" he panted and when she frowned, he added hurriedly "Warm-up type B, coming right up" and she relaxed again chuckling. He kissed her cheekbone, her ear, her neck just under the ear and then further down and she moaned and squirmed and continued to clutch his back and hips,.

"But don't do that count again … please, it freaks me out."

"Wouldn't think of it ... Mmmmh …. Mmmummmf.."

When he reached her breasts she held his head with one hand and pushed her fingers through his hair, while the other still clutched his shoulders.

"Oh … mmmmh … just so you know, I cut … I cut my nails …"

"Awww, that's sooo … sweet …"

He hooked her legs over his arms and worked his way down to her navel, noting that she got louder the further down he got. He loved to hear her going off so noisily, it was also an incredible turn-on – not that he needed one at that point.

At first he had vaguely thought he could get her to climax before they got going, but when she bucked under his hands and screamed in earnest and clawed at him, he just couldn't hold back any longer and let her pull him down and in. For some moments they bucked and twitched and moaned frantically before they settled into their rhythm and then it felt out of this world fantastic, just like the first time and even more so; they agreed and agreed some more and kept on agreeing until he thought he would pass out from sheer numbing excitement. His climax was almost a letdown. He stayed with her for some time longer, until both their breaths had slowed a little, then he withdrew and stretched out beside her, trembling and sweaty and exhilarated.

"I'm afraid I haven't been keeping count, was that 1:1 or 1:2?"

"I don't know."

"YOU don't know?"

She looked smug. "I really don't. I had a multiple."

"Oh my god. Oh my god. That's … amazing. Wow. Though I don't think I could stand that. It's too much."

"I know …!" She smiled widely and stretched luxuriously with her arms over her head.

"Amazing. Really … amazing. Oh god. Oh god, Monica, I swear, I'll never change my watch again."

"What?"

Chandler smiled dreamily. "I'll just stay on London time from now on. This is just too good."

"Really? You'll do that?"

"Yes!"

"Won't it be awkward?"

"No, not really. I just have to deduct – what, five hours? No big deal."

"That's so sweet! Me too!" Monica put her hand to her mouth. "Oh no. I changed my watch on the plane."

"I know, I saw you. It actually gave me this idea."

"Awww."

"Don't worry about it."

"But it's so sweet! Maybe I could change one of my clocks … Maybe the alarm here – in my bedroom …"

He rolled on his side and pulled her to him. "Shhh. It's okay. I don't need my watch much anyway, but that alarm is too important. You'll oversleep and you hate that."

"Yeah you're right. It's so sweet though. So I take it you really want to do this again?"

He smiled at her. "What, more amazing, mind-numbing, wonderful sex, over and over again? Are you kidding? Of course I want that." He frowned a little. "Don't you?"

She laughed. "How could I possibly object to that?"

"I don't know, I keep thinking you'll change your mind when you've had enough – or that it would freak you out eventually …"

"I don't think so, no. And I don't think I'll ever get enough of this. It's incredible. I never thought –"

"What?"

"Well ... you know … that it could be like this."

"I know. Me neither."

"Seriously?"

"Sure. It's been good, but never that great. But are you sure you never had something like this? It's really hard to believe."

She made a face. "Well, there have been some pretty good times. But not lately … I mean-"

"I know. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

For a moment he thought he had gone too far and wanted to kick himself again. But Monica just sighed.

"I guess. It just … it didn't work out. It just got too much somehow, finding someone, fall for him, then get let down again. So much trouble for nothing."

"Been there, done that."

"Really? But at least you had sex last month."

"I did?!"

"Of course you did! That girl you met at the sleep clinic?"

"Oh … Oh god, . Yeah … well, she doesn't count really."

"What?! But you did have sex with her!"

"Please, don't remind me of it! Of her. The Night Screamer. She totally freaked me out."

"So she screamed. I did too just now. I thought you liked it."

"Please! Yes I did and I do, and yes, she screamed, but not during sex. She screamed afterwards, when she was asleep. And she didn't even notice. First she talked in her sleep and then she screamed. Loud. All night. She even woke Joey."

"Wow. And the sex …?"

"When we had sex she was quiet. Very quiet. Practically asleep. It was like having sex with sleeping beauty. Make that trying to have sex. In the end I almost fell asleep on top of her."

"Oh my God. I had no idea."

"I think I can safely promise you that I won't ever fall asleep on you."

Monica grinned devilishly at that and pushed him on his back, straddling him.

"I promise you that I will never ever let you fall asleep on me. Or under me."

He held her close and rubbed her back and buttocks while they kissed. Monica groaned and started to squirm under his hands.

"Whoa … oh my god … I think I just need a minute more … oh...ooouucchhh … oh, okay, I'm good .."

Chandler slid a hand between them and held her tight while his fingers went to work. Monica pushed rhythmically against his hand and otherwise kept herself still, her face buried in his shoulder, her breath loud and rasping in his ears. Only when she sat up and raised herself a little did he notice that he was good to go again. She settled on him, taking him slowly inside her, rocking a little and – yes, humming under her breath. Chandler drew his legs up a little so she could lean against his knees and slowly and gently initiated the thrusting and pushing. Monica responded in kind, languidly, with her eyes closed, a look of intense concentration on her face. Her dark hair had fallen forward and framed her face. A small drop of sweat rolled down her neck and caught on her slim gold chain. She looked incredibly hot to Chandler, like a woman from a particularly hot wet dream. The ultimate hot dream. The one he had never even dreamed of dreaming. He felt as if he was coming apart at the seams – in an incredibly sweet, hot, slow way. He wanted it to never end.

In what seemed like hours later she finally collapsed and lay still beside him, while he held her and gently and soothingly stroked her back. He thought she had fallen asleep, as suddenly as during their first night in London, when she turned her head a little and looked at him, her pupils still dilated and huge.

"We can't tell the others … can we?"

"No. God no. No. They wouldn't understand."

"I know. It's weird though."

"Well, do you want to tell them? Really?"

"No. No, I don't. I mean, it feels weird not to tell them, but it's too … huge."

"And they wouldn't understand. They'd talk it down and twist it … and make fun of us. No, let's not tell them. Not for a while."

"For how long?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Until they find out?"

"What if they never find out?"

"You think you can do that, keep it from them … of course you do."

"Hell, yeah!" That got her going again alright. "Oh, we'll be having so much fun with them, sneaking around, doing it under their noses … wow, I'm getting all worked up again just thinking about it."

"I've noticed. Seriously, you think it'll work?"

"Yes. Yes, I think so. It's not going to be easy. Joey will be okay, with Rachel we will have to be a little more careful. Phoebe will be the hardest, good thing she's not here most of the time. But we will have to be super careful with her. She can sense things."

"Oh yeah. I almost lost it when she accused us of doing it. Phoebe is scary."

"Yeah, she can be, but we can so fool her. Anyway, her pregnancy will slow her down for now. And until Ross and Rachel come back, we can practice a little."

"Oh yeah, I forgot about Ross. Oh my god, he'd go mental if he found out."

Her face shut. "I can handle Ross."

"I don't doubt it, but he'll still be mad. He's weird that way."

"I know. But he never notices anything. Unless we do it where he can see us, we'll be fine."

They both shuddered at the very idea of Ross watching them and then laughed. Chandler lay on his back and stretched out. He felt hot, sweaty, deliciously tired and wonderfully relaxed.

"What time is it?" he murmured at last.

"London time or New York time?"

"Both."

"It's … wow, 6.30 p.m. here. And wow, 11.30 p.m. already in London …that late?"

"Mmmh. I know I should get up, but I can't. I really can't."

"I know. What about Joey though?"

"He's asleep. And so am I. Almost."

"Hey! What if he gets up?"

"We don't need him, do we?"

"No … You're right, it's still early. We should rest a little too. It's been a long day."

Chandler grinned at that and tried to launch a smart retort, but sleep overcame him before it was finished.


	4. Chapter 4 I can stop anytime I want

_A/N: KPvevo4567: thank you, there's a thought! ;-) I quite like the idea of going where no fan has gone before. (Though I do think I saw that hairline mentioned somewhere else, but I don't remember where anymore.) I'll try to think of something. Well, not in this chapter yet, but it does contain a look at Chandler's anatomy, and I hope you like it._

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She couldn't get over how cute he looked when he was asleep. Years ago she had seen him asleep on her sofa and marveled at the same thing and couldn't stop looking until he woke and freaked out. Maybe he would be okay with it now. She hoped so, but also hoped he would not wake up.

He had been stretched out on his back when he had nodded off, arms and legs just sprawled anyhow, his head turned to the side. Even his penis flopped loosely to the side against his upper thigh. Just as Monica looked it twitched a little and she clapped her hand to her mouth to stop the giggle. Guys could be so absurdly funny when they were naked. She hastily shifted her gaze upwards. Yup, there it was, almost hidden in his chest hair, the spot where his "nubbin" had been, just a small round spot, slightly lighter than the skin around it and with faint brown smudges on it. She remembered his third nipple from the one time she had caught him barechested, fairly early in their acquaintance, when he had just moved in next door. It had also been the first and last time she had ever seen it. Unlike Joey she had never seen him completely naked, not even at the beachhouse in Montauk when they had played that silly Strip Happy Days. Apparently he tended to be a little shy about his body. She could relate to that.

Monica turned on her back again and stared at the ceiling. She tried to relax, but pretty soon it became clear that sleep was out of the question. She was just too wound up. Sex would do that to her, sometimes she would fall asleep right afterwards, but more often than not it wound her up, charged her with fresh energy.

She sat up carefully trying to keep the mattress from shifting and waking Chandler up, and inched her way to the side. Just when she had reached the edge of the bed, Chandler sighed in his sleep and slowly turned on his side facing her, right knee drawn up. His breathing deepened and slowed again and she relaxed once more. Then her gaze caught on his foot. Yup, there it was, that was the foot where the toe had gotten cut off – or at least the tip of the toe. She could see the little stump where the nail was missing and her heart clenched. It had been such a godawful stupid accident. In a way she was lucky it had just been the tip of his pinkie toe, it could easily have been two of them or the big toe. Or his finger. Or anything she just didn't want to imagine. What in the world had possessed her to take up this big knife of all things? On that day she had vowed to never hurt him again in any way and was fairly certain that she had kept that promise up to now.

She slid off the bed and put on her bathrobe. She decided to take a shower and then put on sweats and start cleaning and straightening the apartment. And when Chandler woke up she could fix them something to eat. But food could wait.

She lingered under the shower, enjoying the hot water on her skin, the massaging of her muscles in the back and thighs. When she emerged from the steamy bathroom again, she felt as if she was glowing with newfound energy, strong enough to uproot trees.

Chandler hadn't stirred. She put on her sweats and then carefully drew the sheet over him just to under his arms. With the sun behind the buildings and the blind drawn it had gotten dark in the bedroom and she put on the night light before she left the room and shut the door.

It took her the best part of an hour to clear up the mess Phoebe had left in the kitchen and living room. Apparently her pregnant friend had spent most of the time on the couch, even sleeping on it, which was all to the good. Rachel hated it if someone slept in her bed while she wasn't there almost as much as Monica did. While working she decided to leave Rachel's room alone for now, until she heard from her, and to put off vacuuming as long as possible since it could wake up Chandler. If that really could wake him. He had seemed rather beat. And no wonder. That thought made her smile and feel exhilarated all over again. They had been so amazing together, first in London and now here. And it was all so … promising somehow, and so thrilling. So romantic and so intriguing. Their very own secret love affair. Their forbidden affair. It made her heart beat faster just thinking about it. And thinking about him asleep in her own bed, naked. Her new lover. Her secret lover. Her very own Mr Big.

Monica started to hum to herself. She couldn't stop smiling. She wanted to sing and twirl. If the others only knew. Just to imagine all their faces if they found out … Well, she couldn't because they wouldn't. Not for some time, not if she could help it.

Or at least not until they had … sampled a little more of that precious, amazing, wonderful, London time. Expanded on it a little more. It was still so early, they were so new at this, had only just started, who knew what they could make of it? Right now it looked like they couldn't get enough of each other – he had said so too, unhesitatingly – so they really should try and find out how far they actually could take it. If along the way they really managed to keep their affair secret, they would have all the freedom and leisure to do just that, to freely decide if they should end it – hopefully not – or go on doing it (yes, please ..). She could stop anytime she wanted to. Like he could of course, anytime he wanted to. She didn't want to now, definitely didn't, or wanted him to, but she could. They could. Anytime. That was another advantage of keeping it a secret: they alone could decide with no one to meddle with them and influence them in any way.

But oh god, it felt so weird. Weird in a good way, but definitely weird. She had never kept a secret that huge before. Part of her still desperately wanted to tell somebody, anybody, just to share the hugeness and the weirdness and how amazing and deeply satisfying it was, but she couldn't think of anybody she could really trust with it. Definitely not Phoebe, and not Rachel either. Anyway, Rachel was still in London or maybe on her way home, if she got a flight. Monica rather hoped she would be delayed a little longer. She was her best friend, but once she found out she would want all the details and Monica wouldn't be able to hold anything back. She did think that it was actually possible that Rachel would understand if not everything then at least part of it. But she would never in a million years be able to keep it to herself. Instead she would make a huge deal out of it, rush off to tell the others, shout it out from the rooftops, and then return to Monica to endlessly discuss the pros and cons, examine all the facts and maybe make some more up. And eventually start planning the wedding. And freak out Chandler in the process. He would panic, get all kinds of wrong ideas in his head, and take off without even looking back. This was so not worth it.

While she did the dirty dishes plus the ones again that Phoebe had actually washed and put away, mostly in the wrong places of course, Monica pondered the actual likelihood of Chandler freaking out about their … thing. Their affair. How could that be avoided? It wouldn't be easy, but she felt sure that it wasn't impossible. She had always felt that all those commitment issues and fears he claimed to have and everybody was convinced he had were nothing more than a protective smokescreen. A pretense to hide his fears about being disappointed again, rejected, not being good enough for someone. There had been so many things in the last years that actually told her he wanted closeness and companionship, a loving relationship, but shied away from the risks involved. So this 'friendly' affair could be just the ticket to help him get over his insecurities and sense of failure. As long as she – or anyone else - did not push him.

Not push him. Making a really conscious effort not to push him, not to plan anything for their future, just … live for the day, wait and see how things got to be, and enjoy herself while they were at it? Could she do that?

Monica stared unseeingly at the cup (no. 19) she was drying, lost in thought. Of course she could. No problem. Well … maybe not quite. If it went on too long … if nothing came from Chandler that told her he did care … if against all odds somebody else should come along and she had to choose … No, not that. She had made her choice already. They were great together. Everything just … fitted. They had always got along so well before London, now there was just one feature added to their friendship, an expansion so to speak. And that thought made Monica first giggle, and then laugh helplessly.

"What's so funny?"

It was Chandler, standing in the bedroom door, hair still tousled from sleep, barefoot in his pants and T-Shirt, holding his shoes and the rest of his clothes in one hand. He looked just adorable. She smiled at him happily and he smiled back, still a little puzzled.

"Oh, nothing. Just a thought I had. Did I wake you?"

"No, you didn't. I thought it would be better if I checked on Joey, hit the shower maybe – at our place, I mean."

"Yeah." Monica took off her gloves and went to him. "Yeah, you do that. I'm almost finished here. If you come back later, I'll fix something to eat."

"Okay then." He kissed her lightly and then frowned. "What do you mean IF I come back? Of course I'll come back."

"Well, if Joey's awake …?"

"Mmhm. He'll probably want to eat too. Or get pizza. We'll see. But I will be back. I'd like to even the score still tonight."

"What score?"

"London 7, New York 3" he replied grinning and added "So far. But I'm not sure how to count a multiple?"

"I don't know either. But how about we raised your score from 2 to 3? Or 4? Or …"

"Stop!" he pretended to be reeling from shock. "You'd kill me. But I'm sure it would be a sweet death."

She laughed. "Okay, then go, before I change my mind."

And after some more lingering kisses he did. She heard him opening his apartment door and shutting it again. Then everything was quiet. She sighed and went into the kitchen to finish the washing up, then she put all the clothes she had taken to London in the hamper together with the sheets and bedclothes from the bed, ready for laundry. Soon she would have to fit in a visit to the Launderama or the laundry room in the cellar that had been installed a few years before. She didn't much like going there alone, but maybe now Chandler would come with her? He was sure to have some laundry to do too. It would be nice to do it together. And a great excuse.

She was in the kitchen again when the phone rang. It was Ross and she could tell by his voice that something was very wrong. Or everything. As usual.

"Ross! What happened? Did you find Emily?"

"No… well, yes, she came to the airport. But it was too late. Rachel was there …"

"Rachel? Where is she? Did she get a flight?"

"NO! She didn't … well, she did, but not to New York. She went to Greece. In my place."

"What?! Ross …."

"Well, we thought Emily wouldn't come and the plane was leaving, and I thought it would be fun if she came with me, because I had two tickets … and then Emily did come. And ran away again."

"Oh God, Ross. So now Rachel is in Greece? Staying at your hotel? And you're still in London?"

"Yeah. I guess it was a bad idea."

"Bad idea? Bad idea? Ross …" she took a deep breath. Cool it, Geller. This is his problem. His problem alone.

"Okay, so what now? Will you stay on in London, or come back?"

"I don't know …" His tone made her want to hug him and beat him over the head at the same time.

"I think, I'll stay here for a few days. Mom and Dad are still here too. Maybe I can get a ticket on their flight. If I don't find Emily."

"Okay. You do that. And try to call Rachel. She must be freaking out, all alone in your hotel in Greece."

"I don't know if I should … and I don't know the number of the hotel."

"Try information!"

"Well, if she calls you, could you tell her I'm sorry?"

"Yeah. Yeah right. But try to call her!"

"I'm running out of coins. I have to go. Bye, Mon."

"Bye Ross." She hung up, and took a deep breath, her eyes closed. Her brother, so endearing and so infuriating. But oh well, if it hadn't been for this whole Emily fiasco, she and Chandler would still be just good friends and neighbors. And miss out on so much. So unbelievably much that they had only just started to explore.

She shook off all thought of Ross and Rachel again and went over to the kitchen to see what could be used for dinner. All the cleaning and talking with Ross had given her an appetite at last. Hopefully there would be a nice desert too later. Or maybe two. Or even three.


	5. Chapter 5: A whole new Monica

_A/N: I'm sorry, if the last chapter was little more contemplative (though the traffic stats tell me that it gets more reads than no. 3, so there can't be that much wrong with it). Anyway, this one's got a little more steam again. I hope you enjoy it. B._

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Chandler lay stretched out on his bed, on his back, arms spread, staring at the ceiling and trying hard not to think. Not to let any rational thought interfere with this state of perfect, absolute, unthinking, pure bliss. It actually worked for some time, but then he caught himself wondering just how long he could remain like this without anything coming up that would burst the bubble. He pushed the thought away again and replaced it with all those new images of Monica in his brain. Movies actually, with additional features like feel and smell added. The very best porn ever – if you could call that unbelievably hot, wondrous, miraculous experience just porn. It was so much more than that. Just now how cute she had looked in her sweats and dishwashing gloves, eyes sparkling, cheeks glowing, her hair loose and unbrushed touched him in a way no porn ever could. Or would. That was actually something entirely different, nothing to do with porn at all, more than all that great sex they had had. Now there were a whole range of other emotions involved, from pride to tenderness to a sense of belonging, of doing the right thing, being there for her – his new girlfriend.

Girlfriend? Guy #1 held up a red flag. Whoawhoawhoa!

Hell. The bliss was gone again. You couldn't have given me just one more minute, could you?

Of course girlfriend, said guy #2 soothingly. She's your friend and you had sex with her. What else?

Yeah, but … girlfriend?

Okay, lover then. New, unbelievably, wonderfully, hot lover.

Better, but that's not how she'll see it, guy #1 grumbled.

So?

This is Monica! You know her! She wants babies! Lots and lots of babies! And a husband! A big fat wedding! And babies! Guy #1 was almost screeching.

Nah. That's the old Monica. This Monica … my new lover … this is a whole new Monica. Besides, I've always liked the old Monica. Liked her a lot. Even though she wants babies. And marriage. And inspite of her being a neatfreak. And crazy competitive. I've always liked her. Because she was – is – sweet and smart and funny …

… and always always always sooooooooooooo HOT.

And you really think that the new Monica won't want marriage and babies and ...

No. At least not now. Later maybe …

Guy #1 threw up his hands. Helllllooouu ….?

Oh give it a rest.

While the silent argument went on in his head Chandler sighed deeply, got up from his bed again and went to collect his bags from the kitchen and put them in his room. He considered unpacking, but it seemed like too much work, so he only groped around inside the bag until he found his bathrobe and shower things, and then headed to the bathroom. He opened the door, gasped, shut the door again and rushed unceremoniously into Joey's room.

"JO-EY! Wake up man! Joey, hey Joe! Come on!"

"WHAT!" Joey's eyes seemed glued shut, but at least he came halfway awake.

"Have you seen our bathroom?!"

Joey sat up and rubbed his eyes. "The bathroom? Oh that … pretty messy, eh? Yeah, I guess it was the duck … and the chick. But mainly the duck."

"SO? And?"

"Alright! I guess Phoebe left them in there the whole time, maybe they went a little crazy."

"They went a whole lot of other things in there!"

"So what's the big deal?"

"What's the … I wanted to take a shower in there!"

"Well, go on then, it's not that bad. You just have to get rid of the feathers and stuff …"

"EWWWW! I'm not cleaning that up!"

"Or take a shower at Monica's."

"What? No! I don't …. Well, actually, yes, I could. But still!"

"Alright! I'll take care of it. Tomorrow. Now let me sleep."

"Okay. Tomorrow then. Where are the birds anyway, are they okay?"

"Over there. They seemed pretty beat, so I let them sleep in here." Joey indicated a corner of his room where he had actually fashioned a sort of pen for the two birds, with a tub for the duck and a flat kitty litterbox for the chick to scratch. Pretty neat actually. Too bad he had forgotten to show it to Phoebe. Chandler decided not to hold it against him.

"Oh, and just so you know, Monica's making dinner."

Joey opened his eyes again and deliberated for a moment, then he shrugged and sighed. "Alright, I'll join you then."

When he set about getting up Chandler beat a hasty retreat. Joey still didn't believe in pyjamas, or even wearing anything in bed.

When he entered no. 20, Monica was standing at the stove stirring something indefinable but very appetizing in a big pan. She took one look at him and grinned wryly.

"Your shower not working?"

He spread his arms. "It got messed up pretty awful. Phoebe left the chick and the duck in the bathroom the whole time."

Monica gasped. "What? Oh my god. Do you want me to help?"

"No, Joey said he'd clean it up. If he doesn't I'll make him. But he's not quite awake yet, so can I use the shower here?"

"Of course. You're actually asking me? You never did that before!"

Chandler put his bundle of shower things and clothes on a chair and stood behind her, holding her against him. She leaned back into him, but never stopped stirring.

"Really? I guess I'm getting soft in my old age." He kissed the back of her neck.

"Old? Huh … no. Soft? Ahm … no, definitely not soft." She shifted her buttocks a little, rubbing against him, and his breath caught. He tightened his arms around her and slid a hand under her sweatshirt, and heard the hiss as Monica drew air through her clenched teeth. She kept her eyes on the pan, but the small of her back and her buttocks somehow relaxed, became softer, cushioning, inviting. He pressed still harder against her and slid his hand up over her belly to her navel and further to her breasts. Monica turned down the heat on the stove, covered the pan up and put her head back against his shoulder, so he could kiss the hollow of her throat and the side of her neck where the clavicle joined. He went a little upwards on her throat, to just below her ear, and then down again where he could feel her pulse under his lips. She wore no scent at all, there was just the soft smell of her skin, warm from the cooking with a faint hint of sweat and her shower gel. He felt he could become addicted to breathing her in like that.

For quite a while they stood like this, rocking a little to and fro while their heartbeats and breaths sped up. Chandler gently pushed his other hand into her sweatpants and slid his fingers under her panties. Monica's hands clenched on the kitchen counter. Then abruptly her eyes opened and she lifted her head again.

"Oh God, the pasta … wait … don't stop, I just have to ..."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Okay … now I need that dish – over there …" She moved a little to the left and Chandler moved with her, hanging onto her as if they were Siamese twins joined at the hip. He kept pressing against her as she took something out of the fridge next, hung on when she stirred the stew in the pan again and tasted it and wouldn't let go even when she took the pot with the pasta to the sink. He obligingly spared one hand to hold the sieve for her while she upended the pasta into it, but kept the other down her pants, gently tickling her mound and teasing at her clit. He kept at it as she hung the sieve over the pot again so the pasta could drip. When she tried to turn around however, he stopped her.

"No, no, this is great, just stay like that ... "

"There's no room … okay, on the table ..?"

She braced herself against the table top and spread her legs a little. But just as Chandler started to push down her sweatpants and panties in one, they heard no. 19's door open. He jumped back, grabbed his things and fled to the bathroom, shutting the door just in time. He heard Joey come in and plop down on a chair by the table, and Monica cheerily greeting him. Damn it, how could she sound so normal again? It was unbelievable. If Joey had come in just half a minute later …

He turned on the shower, got out of his things and climbed into the tub, then had to get out again to fetch his shower gel and got back in. The water was still not hot enough – Monica's shower took even longer to get hot than his – but he hurried through nonetheless with just a quick soap and rinse and then back out again. When he emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later in his bathrobe and hair still damp Joey was already on his second helping. Monica put a heaped plate before him and took her seat on the chair closest to the stove, almost directly across from him. He still couldn't believe how normal she looked, as they ate and chatted and handed plates and bottles around. Joey who seemed to have gotten over his sleepiness kept raving about all kinds of food he had eaten in London and for a while they all reminisced about the long night at the Wheatsheaf. Then Monica told them about Ross' phonecall and Rachel alone in Greece and they wondered just how she would spend her time there alone.

"I mean, it's not as if she's in Athens, is she? It's some island …"

"Samos. Emily actually wanted Lesbos, but Ross put his foot down on that."

Chandler laughed at that, while Joey looked puzzled and they had to explain at length.

"Well, I would have gone there. Sounds like just the thing!"

"Yes, sweetie, I'm sure you would love it there." Monica agreed and winked at Chandler. "But Ross wouldn't." Chandler smiled back and then started violently when her bare foot touched his thigh and slowly approached his groin. Joey frowned at him and he had to cover his surprise with a cough. Monica just looked smug. Chandler scooted a little closer to the table and surreptitiously trapped her foot between his knees. Monica's big toe slowly crept forward along the inside of his thigh and slid under the edge of his boxers. Chandler felt himself flushing and fervently wished Joey would leave already, so they could either continue where they had been interrupted earlier or take what they were doing now a little further. His appetite – at least for food – was gone. Monica continued serenely chatting with Joey, but didn't seem all that hungry either. When her big toe had reached its goal, she gently moved it up and down his penis and then wrapped her first two toes around it. Chandler soon had to press his belly against the table so his erection wouldn't be noticed. Joey who was helping himself to the last of the pasta remained oblivious however.

After what seemed like an eternity to Chandler his roommate checked the empty pan and dish and regretfully leaned back in his chair.

"Mon, you got any desert?"

"In the fridge. Would you give me a hand with the washing-up?" she asked smiling sweetly at him. Joey grimaced and sighed.

"Sorry, but I'm still pretty beat … I think, I'll just hit the sack again. It's been a long day. Bye, Mon. Coming, Chandler?"

Chandler looked at Monica and almost winced as the squeezed her toes again gently.

"I'll help Mon. Later, Joe, and don't forget the bathroom!"

When the door shut behind Joey they remained at the table for a while listening. They heard Joey enter no. 19 and walk straight to his room. Then they both let out their breaths at the same time and grinned at each other. Monica started to stack the plates, and at last released her toehold and stood up. She put everything in the sink and let it fill with hot water. Chandler got up and stood behind her, handed her the detergent and then pressed against her back again, sliding his hands up her sweatshirt and caressing her breasts while she started the washing-up. He rubbed his erection against her buttocks, waited until she had finished with the glasses and the plates, then shrugged off his robe, pulled down her pants and his boxers and pushed his erect penis between her thighs. It felt incredibly exciting. Monica groaned loudly and braced herself against the sink and he kissed her neck and shoulders again and cupped her mound with his hand, rubbing her clit gently.

"Okay …. Oh god …. Okay … yes, like that … harder …." Suddenly her knees buckled and he caught her around her waist and held her against him, then he brought her around and kicked a chair out of the way. She bent over the table and spread her legs, moaning and shuddering, and he entered her in one sweet, almost fluid motion, then leaned over her back and took her hands in his. He started with long slow thrusts, drawing out halfway and pushing in again with each thrust, then increased the speed until he could take it no longer and had to slow down again, panting and sweating freely. Monica moaned and pumped her hips against him desperately. He braced himself up, suddenly afraid he was crushing her under him, but she held grimly on to the table's edge, her eyes screwed shut, teeth bared, and panting loudly. For a moment he thought he couldn't go on at this pace, then suddenly he felt her clenching around him and yelled in surprise. But it worked, it got him going again, until Monica shuddered and beat her fists at the table and then relaxed under him and lay still. He pushed forward then, straining, and she heaved a little and clenched her vaginal muscles again and that finally caused him to climax too.

For a minute or so neither of them moved, too busy to catch their breaths. At last Chandler shakily got up and let himself fall back on a chair. When Monica pushed herself up he pulled her to him and sat her on his lap with his arms around her.

"Wow … Monica, I mean … Are you okay, did I crush you?"

"No, it's okay. You're right, that was … wow. Though next time I'll get me a cushion first."

He kissed her on her cheek and neck. "Have you done it on that table before or did we just … sort of inaugurate it?"

She laughed shakily. "No, actually I haven't. Funny. Now I wish I didn't have to clean it."

"Then don't." She just gave him a look. "Or yes, please do."

"And this chair too …"

"Yes, that too. And the floor while you're at it. But not right now."

She snuggled against him and they continued sitting and rocking a little longer. Finally Monica looked over her shoulder at the dishes in the sink and sighed.

"I'm sorry, but I can't leave them like that."

"I know." He kissed her again. "You won't be able to sleep. We can't have that."

"Alright, then let me down."

"In a minute … oh okay. Careful … ouch!"

She had jumped from his lap and Chandler let himself flop in the chair, playing dead, while she punched him playfully. At last she got him up and he groggily pulled up his boxers, collected his bathrobe and put it back on. Monica handed him a dish towel and he helped her wipe the dishes and clean the sink and stove. At last she seemed satisfied – for the moment – and went back into his arms for a kiss.

"Doing it like that is actually great fun" he said. "We should do the cooking and the washing-up just like that all the time from now on."

Monica just smiled and nestled against his chest. "I'm getting sleepy. Would you like to stay the night?"

"Yes, I'd love that. Are you sure?"

"You don't snore, do you?"

He pretended to be offended. "Me? Snore? Absolutely not. I can bring references too."

"Good. Then yes, I'm sure. Have you got everything?"

"Sure. But I have to check on Joey first. Be back in a minute."

Back in no. 19 everything was quiet however, except for Joey's snores. Chandler went to his room and ruffled his bed a little to make it look as if he had slept in it, trying all the while not to think about what just had happened, what continued to happen and how amazing it all was … For once even the two guys in his head remained silent. Struck dumb perhaps. Maybe even for good – but that was really too much to hope.

When he got back to no. 20., the apartment was dark, except for the light in the bathroom and the soft shine from the lamp in her bedroom. He washed his face and hands and brushed his teeth as fast as he could, then he went to her bedroom and stood in the door, just looking at her, drinking in the sight of her. She had put on a short flimsy nighty and sat on the bed with her knees drawn up. She smiled at him and put out her hand, and he shut the door behind him and went to the bed to kiss her.

"Right or left?" he asked hoarsely.

"Do you have a preference?"

"No, not really. Do you?"

"Well … I'm usually more on the left side."

"Right side it is then."

They got under the covers and snuggled contentedly for a while, until Monica fell asleep with his arm still under her head. After some shifting he finally got her to turn around and spoon against him, and he put out the light and lay back, listening to her breathe.

Girlfriend? Well, it pretty much looked like it. And if it remained like that for the time to come, then, yeah, why not, he was okay with it. Very much so actually.


	6. Chapter 6: Doing it, doing it

_A/N: For those who haven't noticed yet, I'm alternating between Chandler's and Monica's POV in each chapter (and no, I really really really did not steal that from Starbuckmeggie, it just seemed like a good idea already before I read her amazing stories). So "Monica's body parts seen through Chandler's eyes" will have to wait until at least chapter 7, but I promise that I will give it some thought._

.

.

Monica loved to wake up just a few minutes before the alarm. It gave her time to relax and wake up properly, think about what the new day held in store for her and start the day with fresh energy. She had set the alarm for 6.30 because there was still a lot to do and she had to get it done before leaving for work at noon, since she had to work late all week to compensate for the London time off. Now it was 6.22 and she stretched luxuriously on her back a little before turning on her side and looking at Chandler. In the grey fuzzy light of dawn she couldn't see much of him. He was lying on his side facing her with his knees drawn up and his arms wrapped protectively around his head, his breathing almost inaudible. He had been good at his word too, if he had snored at all in the night she hadn't heard it. One more good mark. He was rapidly becoming perfect for her. How had she not seen that sooner? It seemed like such a waste, all those lost years when they had been just friends and neighbors. It felt so good to share her bed with someone again, to go to sleep and to wake up with a warm, living, breathing, person next to her at arm's length or even closer, to feel their body heat mingle, to smell him. She had missed that so badly. The last man who had actually spent the night in her bed had been Richard during that short time they had tried just to be friends who slept with each other. Pete had always refused to spend the night, or even have sex in her apartment, it was too small and too uncomfortable for him. He was so used to all the technical gadgets and space his house provided that from the beginning he had always insisted on their sleeping together there. The one time she had slept with Julio had been at the diner, in a storage room, and she would rather forget that completely.

Richard had always liked her place even though the bed had often seemed too small for him. They had always spent more nights in her apartment than in his. Very probably because he had enjoyed the company of the others too, all the stuff they did together, like watching movies and playing games or just hanging. And Monica had loved to have him in her bed. Even though he had snored. Quite a lot in fact. She had gotten used to it, even missed it for a while when they had broken up.

But that was so long over. Over and done with. She hadn't wanted him back for a long time now. And now she would never even need him back, because there was Chandler. Her lover. When she thought of that number last night on the kitchen table, she felt goosebumps racing up and down her back. It had been so amazing – and so incredibly … natural. As if they only had to be near each other to get up to the most amazing, mindnumbingly thrilling, overwhelmingly hot things. As if each of them knew already quite well what made the other tick. What the other one wanted or needed. With hardly ever having to ask or even think about it.

True, so far they hadn't done much else but have sex. But that didn't worry her … yet. Because it felt so normal to be with him. Talking, sharing, exchanging thoughts would come later, in due course. They didn't need it right now because they had known each other already for so long. Had sat, lain or slouched next to each other, often very close, on sofas, chairs and beds. Had seen each other at least once every day in the last 7 years, most often at breakfast, but also on the big couch at Central Perk's or in their apartments after work. Had shared their troubles and issues, their joys and interests, ups and downs. He had helped her, supported her, asked her advice and given it, even restocked her fridge unasked when Joey had raided it once too often or refunded her on the quiet. He had consoled her too a few times, helped her through hard times, though more often than not he had turned it into a joke when they got too close for comfort. Like that time when they had hugged and then realized she was only wearing a towel and getting uncomfortable about it.

Also at times he had certainly annoyed the hell out of her. Almost as bad as Ross and about the same as Joey. And whenever those two ganged up on her together they were worse than Ross at his most infuriating. She still shuddered at the memory of how they had hassled her when they wouldn't get out of their new Barcaloungers for days. Or when they had actually won that stupid contest and won her apartment from her. It had taken her weeks to get over that humiliation (sometimes it still rankled) and she only regained her true balance again when she had taken it back from under their noses (that had also been one of the few times she had seen Chandler really get angry). And how Chandler had kept pestering her in Montauk when he tried to get her to admit he would be a good boyfriend. He hadn't been serious about it then, just seen it as a great joke, a way to wind her up, she was sure of that. If he had been serious, he would have behaved differently, not talked about it so much, not been so goofy about it. When Chandler got serious about something, he usually shut up or went into denial, as if silence or lying resolved all problems or made them go away. Above all he hated confrontation. She would have to remember that.

Her clock radio switched on and she had to reach over Chandler to switch it off again. He stirred sleepily, turned his head, frowned and finally opened his eyes. For a moment he looked at her blankly, then he smiled widely and her heart seemed to miss a beat.

"Good morning … mmmmhhh yes, oh … definitely good."

"Good morning, sleepyhead. Slept well?"

"Ummmmh. Oh yeah. That's a great bed you have here. Sooo … soft …"

"Hey there, don't go to sleep again, you have to get up now."

".. why, what time izzit?"

"6.30. Come on, don't you have to work today?"

He glared at her balefully through half-opened eyes. "Not for hours. What's the big rush?"

Good lord. She had always thought Joey was the sleep addict of the two, but apparently Chandler was good at that too.

"Well I have things planned, and not much time, so I'm going to get up. If you want Joey or Phoebe to catch you, you can stay here –"

But just as she was about to swing her legs over the side Chandler reached out and grabbed her.

"Monica … wait. Just … come here – that's no way to start the day."

"Then what?" But she let herself be pulled back. Chandler propped himself up on one elbow, put a hand behind her neck and kissed her. For a moment she worried about night-breath, but his wasn't too bad and he didn't seem to mind hers. The kiss deepened and his hand slid down her back, pulling her closer and slightly over him as he lay on his back again.

"Wow, that's some morning wood ..."

"That's all yours if you want it."

He had both arms around her now, rubbing her back and buttocks through her nighty and slowly bunching it up. Before she knew it she was lying full length on him and her legs parted as if by themselves, as if she could no longer control them – or her other body parts. His body under hers felt incredibly good, as if it kept molding and adjusting itself to her, until they were moving together instead of against each other. She couldn't get enough of his kisses and kept pressing her lips on his, searching his tongue out with hers and shuddering at the contact. He moaned and gasped as she rubbed herself frantically against his erection and his grip tightened. They both relaxed a little to come up for air again, then he bunched her nighty up and yanked her thong down over her buttocks and thighs. When he pushed his hand between her legs and slid an inquiring fingertip between her labia she whimpered and squirmed. Suddenly her nighty became unbearable and she got up on her knees a little, still pressing against his hand between her legs, and pulled it over her head. The thong was more of a problem, but it stretched just enough for her to pull one leg out of it without Chandler missing a beat. While she was at it she lifted the elastic band of his boxers up and away until his penis sprang free. She sprawled hovering above him whilst he spread her labia gently and guided himself in, panting, his eyes slit in concentration. Monica felt as if she was melting all around him, only held up by his hips and steadied by his hands. She bent forward, slid her hands under his T-Shirt and ran them up and down his chest and sides, tracing the line of hairs down his middle and up again so they rose and parted against the tip of her finger. They kissed again and for a long moment the connection was perfect, their movements slowed and adjusted, harmonized and slowly sped up again, until they both approached the edge, then took it back a little, drawing it out again and again.

Monica caved in first, unable to protract any longer and he followed almost immediately after. Both were covered in sweat and panted as if they had run a race.

"That's the kind of morning workout I really like!" he exclaimed and she grinned, remembering vividly his aversion of workouts and exercises. She lay on her back again beside him and for a minute they remained like this, trying to catch their breath. Then she felt his hand moving to find hers and close around it, and felt absurdly touched by it. He intertwined their fingers and squeezed lightly and when she squeezed back he took her hand up and brought it to his lips. She suddenly felt as if she had a lump in her throat.

He shifted to his side again without letting go of her hand and smiled at her.

"So what are your big plans for today?"

"Well … shower, than breakfast – Phoebe will probably be here around eight I guess. Then shopping. Dry-cleaners and laundry. Lunch. I have to leave at noon for work."

"When will you get back?"

"From work? Late. I have double shifts all week."

"That's too bad. Laundry? I have to do that too. Shall we do it together when you get back?"

"Sounds good. You could take my stuff down too and I'll join you when I get back."

"-kay. And then we can get pizza. Or Chinese."

"And desert?"

"Definitely desert. Maybe some starters too."

.

When Phoebe had arrived and been installed on the couch – the kitchen chairs were too uncomfortable for her now – they were in the middle of breakfast, Chandler already in his work clothes and looking as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. His choice of suit for today was dark brown with a beige shirt and blue tie that brought out his eyes. Monica couldn't get over how handsome he looked and how she had never really noticed it before. Though the other two guys looked good in suits too, he was easily the most natural with it and with the best taste.

They sat in their usual chairs, not too close, and Monica was constantly amazed at how easy it seemed to pretend that nothing had happened. They exchanged the same pleasantries as always, shared the paper and the last bit of cereal. Sometime later Joey appeared, still half asleep, unshaven and in his bathrobe. When Phoebe complained about his stubble, he glared at her.

"It's not my fault, our bathroom isn't fit to use yet. You left the birds in there the whole time, by any right you should clean it."

"Well, if you carry me there, and stay with me, maybe I could give it a shot." Joey grimaced and looked imploringly at Monica.

"Forget it! I'm busy today. This one's all yours."

"Fine! I'll do it. Can you lend me some cleaning stuff?"

"Sure." And she took out a bucket filled with sponges and cleaning agents out from under the sink and put in front of him, much to his dismay. Chandler grinned at her and for a hot sizzling moment their eyes met and locked. It made her breath hitch. Then he casually took up the paper again and only Monica noticed that he was holding it upside down for a good while.

Later, during shopping and her other errands she couldn't stop thinking about him, and later at work she had to forcibly wrench her attention away from him and to the work at hand. Her colleagues at Alessandro's only grudgingly acknowledged her return and mostly ignored her. Normally she would have resented that, but today but she didn't care, even when they put her apron in the freezer. Somehow she floated through the day, smiling serenely at each prank, while she secretly imagined doing it with Chandler on the kitchen table or in the table linen closet. At around 4 o'clock in the afternoon it occurred to her that she had been back in New York for exactly one day and they had had sex on three separate occasions already. More than she had had all year. It was unbelievable. There was actually nobody she had had so much sex with in that short a time. And it didn't look like there was an end in sight yet.


	7. Chapter 7: Phone doing it

_A/N: Yes, I do know Rachel meant something else by their 'phone doing it' ;-)_

_._

.

By afternoon Chandler despaired of ever getting any work done that day. His desk was piled high with files and reports, his assistant kept bringing him more in regular intervals and he kept expecting her to whip out a gun and point it at him, or something similar drastic, to force him to deal with the accumulated backlog caused by his week off. But the numbers and graphs simply refused to reveal their interconnections and patterns to him, no matter how hard he tried to cram them into his head and ingest them mentally and thus arrive at the larger picture the way he usually did after some twenty minutes concentration. Before London there had been times when he had actually been unable to let go, had pored over all available material, burned the midnight oil more often than not until it all made sense, until he had squeezed it dry and got a satisfying result that actually justified his salary and let his bosses overlook the number of times he called in sick.

Of course he had considered calling in sick this day, he could always claim he had caught some food poisoning or some bug in London, and it wouldn't be that far from the truth after all – it actually was London related. But Monica wouldn't be there and Joey would, and he was in no mood to listen to Joey's ravings while his roommate got him to clean the bathroom in his place. Or mope around in his room and drive himself crazy until Monica got back. Anything, even work, was preferable to that.

So he kept staring at the files and mussing his hair with both hands until it stood up in unruly spikes at all angles, while his mind couldn't wrench itself free from the memories of sex with Monica.

Past memories and future scenarios. Monica in his bed in London. Monica in her bed in New York. Monica on the kitchen table. And so forth. 5:2, 3:2, 1:1, 1:1, he kept repeating in his head like an idiot. And wondered how many times they would be able to achieve that night. And how. And where.

On the couch, he thought. It was the next obvious place. He could put the chain on the door, and extinguish all the lights except for the table lamp maybe, or the one in the kitchen. He would have her sit on the couch and let him undress her, item by item, from her feet up, and make her turn around and back again, move this way and that to allow him access everywhere and anywhere he wanted … and he would of course prolong the process as long as possible, drive her and thus himself crazy by stroking those long legs in their nylon hose up and down their whole length, unroll it inch by inch down, play with her bra by just pushing his thumbs under it and rub her nipples before undoing the catch …

When Helen cleared her throat next to him Chandler shot up from his chair and almost jumped on his desk.

"WHOOOAAA!"

Helen grabbed at her chest and screamed. For a moment they stared at each other, Chandler wild-eyed and reeling and she open-mouthed and panting.

"What … my god, Cha- Mr. Bing!"

Chandler stared at her and slowly came to his senses.

"Sorry … I'm sorry, Helen, but you really startled me. Actually, scared the cra- erm, never mind."

"Are you alright?" For once she seemed genuinely concerned, rather surprising considering what she had to put up with from him.

"Yes, yes, I was just … lost in thought, and then …well … then I kinda lost it. I'm okay. What is it, I mean, why did you ..?"

"What … oh, yes. I'm sorry, but Mrs. Fenwick called and said she needed to look at the ANUS before lunch tomorrow already …" He actually started to grin at the word ANUS, and got serious again when he caught her withering look. They had been there before. A lot of times. The joke never got old with him and had withered and died for her a long time ago.

"… and you didn't answer the intercom. Are you feeling okay? You seem a little .. off."

Chandler took a deep breath, smoothed his hair and sat back down, not meeting her eyes.

"Yes, I'm fine. Just … forget it. Tell Tina I'll look at her AN- erm, that I'll do it, no prob. Now where did I put …"

Helen deftly fished the thick file out of his laden in-tray. "Here it is. But maybe you should go for a break first? Some coffee maybe? Can I get you something?"

"No, don't bother. Please. And yeah, I'll ... have a break. That's a good idea. I'll … I'll just have a coffee and then I'll do Mrs Fenwick - erm, work on the ANUS. Promise." He grabbed his jacket and almost ran to the door. In the hall he tried to adjust his tie, almost choked himself and wrenched it loose again. Thankfully there was nobody nearby. He took a sip from the drinking fountain and set off to the cafeteria, where he got a coffee and went to the window with it, too upset to sit down.

My God, what had got into him? Had it ever been this bad? There had been plenty of times when he had completely lost his head over a woman. But not one of them, not even Kathy after their first kiss, had ever overthrown him so completely that he was unable to work. He hated his job, was thoroughly bored with it nearly all the time, but somehow the fact that he always knew how to go about it, what he had to do at what time to achieve the best results with the least effort, made him feel safe and confident – and comfortable. Fresh out of college it had been his first real job and he had taken to it like a duck to water and just never been able to quit. He kept telling himself that it was temporary and that one day he would chuck it and find something more satisfying and exciting to do, but deep down he knew he would never be able to forego the security and stability it provided. Both his parents worked in self-dependent artistic jobs that had taken them a long time to build up. His best friend was barely scraping along, and if he quit, what would become of Joey?

Also he wouldn't be able to call in sick, adjust his work schedule to his mood if he was self-employed. Or dream about his lover while he was supposed to work.

He glanced at his watch, frowned when he noted the time, remembered to deduct 5 hours and then started. It was 4.15 p.m., or 9.15 p.m. in London. In other words, exactly 3 days or 72 hours since Monica had knocked on the door of his room. He kept remembering the moment she had thrown herself at him so unexpectedly. He had noticed how tense she had been, how wound up and reckless, and had searched for the best way to calm her down. Who in hell would have thought what effect his efforts would produce? He had always known that she was a sucker for compliments, but still couldn't believe that the reward for them would be so outstanding and mindboggling.

4 sessions of sex in 3 days. Probably 5 or even 6 until tonight. Already it was a record for him. And he was pretty sure for her too.

Yeah, dude, you do know what you are, don't you? guy #1 sneered.

What? Chandler was rapidly getting fed up with guy #1. True, it had been him, and not guy #2 who had successfully needled him to go back to Monica after their return to New York when he had already abandoned all hope of more sex with her. But since then he had become a major pain in the ass. Again.

A sextoy, guy #1 replied. She only wants you for bed. You'll see.

That's sooo not true. How can you think that?

You seriously think she'll want more from you?! She knows you, man! She knows everything about you! She knows you'll run the second she'll mention babies and marriage …

So? Maybe she doesn't know me all that well. Maybe I won't run. Maybe I'll just … like it.

Oh yeah, and maybe Monica doesn't want babies anymore. And maybe Ross and Rachel will make up permanently. Maybe Joey will get famous and Phoebe will get married and be a soccer mom. Maybe …

Oh give it a rest.

His coffee had cooled. He tasted it, grimaced and went back to his office to tackle the ANUS.

.

Monica had said she wouldn't be in before 10 so he remained in the office long after Helen had left, grimly concentrating again and again until at long last the numbers fell together. By the time he finished up everyone on his floor had already left and it was getting dark. He felt dead tired, but when he left the subway station and arrived at Bedford Street, his spirits picked up and he rushed up the stairs with renewed energy. And yes, there was light under her door, and yes, his apartment was empty except for the birds who ran squawking and clucking to him when he opened the door, which meant that Joey was out on a date. He checked that they had enough feed and water, looked in the bathroom and noticed that it was at least somewhat cleaner than the last time he had seen it, then left his jacket and briefcase on the foosball table and left the apartment again to go to Monica.

She almost met him at the door. As soon as he had entered she threw herself at him, wrapped her arms around his neck and tried to climb up him while they kissed. Apparently she had just arrived too, because she was still in her work clothes. He kicked the door shut behind him and put the chain on with one hand while holding her tight with the other. Then he bent down a little, put one arm under her knees and lifted her up in his arms without breaking the kiss. Monica giggled and squirmed and he carried her over to the living room and laid her on the couch. She drew him down over her and pressed against him, wrapped her legs around him and pulled his shirt up over his back. He kissed her cheeks, her ears, her neck and kept coming back to her mouth, hungrily, never satisfied. The way her thighs felt at his waist drove him crazy.

After some minutes they took a moment to look at each other and calm down a little. Monica's eyes were shining and there were hectic red spots on her cheeks. Her mascara was smeared a little and her hair had become undone. She looked adorable. And hot. So hot. Above all hot.

"So how was work?" she asked with a mischievous just-kidding look. He smiled blissfully at her and kissed her again lingeringly.

"Dunno …" he confessed. "I never remember what it's like afterwards. When I leave the building – it's gone. Erased. You know, they could do all sort of weird things in there and I'd never know because I forget."

"Weird things? Really? What kind?"

"I don't know. Could be anything. Maybe … experiments …"

She laughed and tightened her grip. "Oh my. Poor little bunny."

"Or maybe they just switch me off and put me into a closet. At COB they dust me off and switch me on again."

She shifted her hips a little and moaned a little. "Doesn't feel … switched off to me."

"When I'm with you, I'm soo turned on again. Never off actually."

She ran her fingers through his hair and they kissed again deeply. And then the phone rang. Monica stiffened under him and Chandler groaned.

"It could be Rachel …" she panted. "I think she tried earlier, but she left no message."

"Let the machine pick it up then."

They waited, listening, until the answering machine switched itself on and played the message. And after the beep – yes, it was Rachel.

"Monica? Monica? Oh God, Monica, be there, pick up, please, please …"

Monica rolled her eyes and groaned resignedly. They got up and Monica reached for the phone.

"Hi Rache – sorry, just got in, that's why I'm so out of breath … How are you? What's going on? Are you still in Greece? Yeah, I heard. Ross told me. So tell me, Rache, was it your idea? What? What do you mean, he offered? But he is married! MARRIED! Rache …! Okay, okay, yes, I'm calming down. Yes, I said YES! Okay …"

She sat close to the phone table with her knees drawn up and her free hand clenched on the cushion. Chandler sat down close to her, gently loosened her hand and took hold of it, then started to kiss it from the fingertips down to the palm, her wrist where he could feel her pulse, on the soft skin of her inner lower arm up to the inside of her elbow. Monica rolled her eyes at him and frowned, but didn't pull the arm away. He continued to kiss his way up to her shoulder. She was wearing a sleeveless blouse and he flicked his tongue briefly under the strap before he gently turned up her arm and delicately flicked his tongue at her armpit. Monica gasped and almost dropped the receiver, then she tried to wrench her arm away, but Chandler hung on, gently but firmly, and finally she gave in. Chandler continued to lick and snuffle, her scent filled his senses – a little sweaty, sharp and stingy, but not unpleasant, plus a whiff of her roll-on mixed with her shampoo and under it all the warm soft scent of her skin.

"So … hahrm … what are you – no, just something in my throat – what are you doing over there? Are they letting you stay in Ross's suite? What? They think YOU'RE his wife? But why – "

Chandler targeted her neckline next. Slowly and carefully, breathing as softly as possible so Rachel wouldn't pick up on it, he kissed the tips of her clavicles and the little hollow between them, then wandered down her breastbone with his lips, opening the buttons of her blouse one by one. Monica put her free hand on the back of his neck and dug through his hair with her fingers. When he reached her breasts and pushed his tongue under her bra, her hand clenched and she had to cover her moan with another cough.

"And how long are you going to stay there … Uh-hu … yeah, figures – well, if there is no other flight out, there's nothing you can do – uh-hu … but what about your job? No, Rachel, I'm not going to … oh, well, but seriously … okay … and who there? What was the name? Okay …"

Monica's bra turned out to be one that opened in front and since he could figure it out at his leisure, opening it turned out to be no problem. He cupped her breasts with his hands and kissed them with all the reverence they deserved, gently stroking them and sucking at the nipples. He thought they had just the right size, not too big and pert, yet full and perfectly formed, and they seemed to fit right into the hollows of his hands. There were some freckles on them and on her breastbone and he looked at every single one and tried to commit their form and size to his memory.

"So your return flight isn't until Sunday? Woww – oh, wow – what? No, I'm not panting, must be the connection – What was that? You met someone – oh, yeah, you said, the manager's son. Uh-huh … that's nice … He wants to show you the beach? Well, have fun … no, of course you deserve it …"

At long last Chandler continued downwards from her breasts to her navel with his lips, gently stroking her sides and waist with his hands. He marveled once more how a chef could be so thin and supple, even considering how careful she was with her food. All that energy and passion that she put into everything in her life probably burned up all but the most essentials calories. He knew that she had been seriously overweight as a child and teenager, had even met her a couple of times at that time, but now it always seemed to him that this young overweight (okay, fat) Monica had nothing to do with the Monica in the here and now, was another person altogether. When he had seen her for the third time the following Thanksgiving – and really seen her this time, not just noticed and immediately dismissed but SEEN her, that is stared at her, spellbound and almost drooling – as she came down the stairs in that awesome black, clingy dress, stunning beyond comprehension, he had felt the impact even more deeply than that caused by the big knife she had dropped on his foot later. The accident had shaken him out of his spell, but a good deal of that first fascination had survived somewhere deep down in his subconsciousness ever since.

When he had finished with her navel, Chandler got up from the couch and knelt in front of Monica. Careful not to make a sound he took off her shoes one by one, then he opened the button of her jeans and drew down the zipper. Monica squirmed and twisted and hooked her legs over his shoulders, while he slowly pulled her jeans over her hips and legs. She trailed her toes down his back and tried to trap his head between her knees, all the while still talking – or at least listening – to Rachel. With some small portion of his mind Chandler wondered about the phone bill and what Ross would think about it, but really could not concern himself with it. He tried to pick up the edge of Monica's panties with his teeth and pull them down, but it took too long, so he slid his hands under her buttocks and hooked his thumbs under them instead. Her buttocks were perfect for his hands too, small enough so he could encompass them fully with all fingers spread, but full and solid and muscular – and so smooth and round. When he had moved the panties halfway down her thighs and pressed his face against her vulva, Monica finally lost it. She dropped the phone and slammed a pillow over it, then she frantically struggled out of the jeans and panties and wrapped her legs around his head, moaning and hissing, and pushing herself rhythmically against his face. After a while she picked up the phone again.

"Rache ...? ... sorry, Rachel - … Rachel! I said, I have to go, the connection is really bad … No … I can't … I can't hear you – aaahhh – sorry …"

Chandler took himself off from what he was doing long enough to take the phone from Monica, make some horrible crackling noises into it and terminate the call. Then he threw it over his shoulder in the direction of the big chair, parted Monica's legs again and carried on. Monica grabbed his hair and shoulders and first panted hectically, than started to scream. She lay back until she was lying almost horizontally on the couch with her hips over the edge, eyes screwed shut and shuddering all over as the orgasm hit her. When she relaxed her grip and her legs sank down from his shoulders, Chandler got to his feet and stripped off his clothes, kicking off his shoes and tearing down his pants. Then he knelt on the couch and lifted Monica up until she straddled his lap, resting her against the back of the sofa. She guided him inside and then pressed against him, wrapped her arms around him and kissed him, smearing her own juices over her face. His first thrusts were awkward, until they perfected their position, then he picked up speed, and they were going at it again once more, straining and pushing, sweating, panting and licking, agreeing and agreeing until it seemed they couldn't stop anymore, had long since moved beyond that point and lost all sense of time and reality. It was exhilarating, overwhelming and almost frightening.

But at some point it did end, and they lay still again, pressed closely together on the couch and lazily kissing each other. Chandler smoothed her hair back from her forehead and ears.

"So …" he said, still a little out of breath. "Pizza – or Chinese?!"


	8. Chapter 8: Laundry Picnic

It took Monica a while to get her eyes to focus again. And even longer for Chandler's question to make any sense to her.

"Huh? … Oh – I don't know. I think I was hungry when I came in, but now …"

He smiled widely and looked so cute with it she just had to kiss him again. He responded enthusiastically, and they spent another while just kissing and cuddling. Monica started to loose herself again, when voices and steps on the stairs startled them and made them sit up and let go of each other, albeit reluctantly. They listened, and heaved a sigh of relief when it turned out that the steps had been going down the stairs, not up. Monica drew up her shoulders and rubbed her arms, then she started to collect her scattered clothing and put it on again. Her head slowly cleared.

"Did you close the door? And what about Joey?"

"Uh-huh. Out on a date I think." Chandler put on his shirt and started to button it up, realized he had skipped a button and started over. Monica opened the door again and then absentmindedly straightened the pillows on the couch and picked up Chandler's tie that had ended up on the big chair.

"You know, now that I think about it, I am getting hungry. I wanted to get something right after – oh shoot!"

"What?"

"Laundry! Oh no! I totally forgot!"

"Well … can't you do it tomorrow?"

Monica's face scrunched up. "I guess … but I really wanted to do it today …"

"Well, then let's do it now."

"Now?!" Monica stared. "And – we? You too?"

"Yeah, why not? I've got laundry too. We go together and get something to eat too."

Her face lit up. "Yes, that would save so much time!"

"Okay then, let's go do laundry! Have a laundry date! A laundry picnic!" Chandler started to dance in place, grinning goofily, until Monica's frown made him stop. Then she laughed and kissed him before he could start again.

"Go get your stuff then. We'll meet in the hall."

They decided on the Launderama because there was a Chinese take-out place not far from it and at that hour there would be fewer people there and thus more available machines, and less risk to run into anyone they knew. Indeed it was almost deserted, except for a middle-aged woman absorbed by her Steven-King-novel and an elderly guy with a small dog they had the place to themselves. Monica chose three machines in a far corner and got out her suds and fabric softener. She had already presorted her laundry in her basket into easy care, delicates and whites and started to load the machines, when she noticed Chandler still standing there with his laundry bag and looking somewhat dismayed.

"What's the matter? Forgot something? You can have my suds. In fact, I thought we'd share the machines anyway. There's still room."

"Yes, sure ... but … I haven't sorted them …"

"So? I can do that." And Monica grabbed the bag, but Chandler wouldn't let it go.

"No. No! I can do it. In fact … why don't you get something to eat? I'll wait here."

Monica hesitated and bit her lip.

"No, I'd rather do this."

"Why? It's just laundry, no big deal. I've done it before."

"But you don't know –" she broke off again.

"What? The secret mysterious laundry formula that the powers of the world have been trying to find since the dawn of time …?"

"Stop it. Well, you know, I can't let … I really need to do it myself."

"Well, I'm not going to let you sort my laundry."

"Why on earth not? Is there something I shouldn't see?" He squirmed a little. "Something I haven't seen before?"

"No … well, you know, some of that … it's – gross."

"Why? Is there some of Joey's in there too?"

"No! His mother always does his laundry, you know that."

"She still does that? Oh God. Well, what is it then? Your underwear? Seriously? You don't want me to touch your underwear?"

Chandler shrugged. "I guess. It's just weird."

"But Chandler … we just had –" she lowered her voice just in time "- we just had sex. On the couch. While I was on the phone. To me that was weird. But also really … great. And you still think your underwear would creep me out?"

He shrugged still holding on to the bag. "I know! But …"

"Oh, please, you're worse than Ross. Seriously! It's no big deal. Come on!"

He still looked undecided, so she wrenched the bag out of his hands, upended it on the floor and started to rapidly sort through the garments, dropping them in the appropriate machines. Chandler pulled himself together and bent down to help her. He managed to fish out several pairs of boxers and Y-fronts before she could lay her hands on them and stuffed them into the machine Monica pointed out to him. She closed the lids and then started carefully to measure out suds, deliberating over the amount and adding some more until she was satisfied. When she had finally finished with the first machine, she noticed Chandler watching her, the expression on his face carefully blank.

"I know. I know. Don't say it."

Chandler grinned widely. "Wouldn't think of it. I'll go get food. You want anything special?"

"Anything except crabs. I don't care."

"You got it."

When she had finished with the suds and softener to her satisfaction and started the machines, Monica sat on the bench in front of the machines with her knees drawn up, watching the laundry being tossed and churned in the soapy water, almost entranced. She loved watching her laundry being cleaned, it never failed to relax her. If she had a problem, it helped finding a solution, if she was restless, it calmed her, if she needed to think about something it provided the most admirable background.

She didn't particularly want to think at this time, just … reminisce a little. Or a lot. Revel in memories.

All those amazing, unbelievable, exhilarating, overwhelming memories. How he had licked her all over, oh my god, even in her armpit, and how amazing that had been, how they had done it on the couch and how good it had been, how deeply satisfying. She had never done it on the couch before, somehow it had always seemed the wrong place for it, too open, too exposed. Nor had any of her boyfriends ever wanted to do it there – except maybe Fun Bobby, but he had pretty much wanted to do it everywhere anytime. Including on the balcony. She had let him talk her into it one time when she had been quite drunk already and when her underwear ended up on the telephone pole, she had vowed never to do it there again. Now she had totally forgotten that she ever had qualms about sex on the couch and if things continued that way, maybe Chandler would even get her to do it on the balcony again. If he –and she also - was willing to brave the nosy neighbors and Scary Pigeon that was.

And it wasn't just the sex. Not anymore. The sex was indescribably wonderful, the best she ever had, hands down. They were so great together, but that wasn't quite it. For them to be so good at it together, there had to be more to it than both of them being good at it. They seemed to complete each other in a way she had never thought possible. She had never felt so relaxed and totally at ease with a guy before knowing that he knew about all her quirks, weirdnesses and compulsions and took them in his stride. With the others there had always been some point at which she didn't know how he would react to something that she had revealed about herself and it would freak her out. True, she had never driven anyone away with it, but often it had been close. With Chandler it hadn't even had a chance to become an issue. And maybe it wouldn't ever be, at least not as long as they were not in love.

Were they in love? Monica bit her lip. She couldn't really tell. True, she experienced a rush every time she saw him again after they had been apart. His smile made her heart miss a beat. She had arrived at home from work hardly 10 minutes before him and the waiting had almost unnerved her. Then he had come and seeing him, feeling him, kissing him, holding him … that all had let her experience an emotional rush she hadn't felt in years. She had never felt like that about him before, it was as if she somehow looked at him differently and saw something – several things she had never noticed before. Not even when she had met him for the first time as an overweight teenager with an immediate crush on her brother's cute roommate. Or much later, when he became her neighbor and in time, her best male friend. Also there had always been a low, understated but definitely present physical attraction, never admitted but nevertheless there. She had always thought he was cute and handsome too, just too insecure and self-deprecating to be really attractive.

Could this be love? Already? And after all this time? Or would it become love? Or was it just physical, the result of her long dry spell ending so spectacularly and satisfyingly? And the exhilaration of keeping it a secret, enjoying it on the sly. The excitement of a new thrilling game. Were there really no emotions involved? And if so, would they be able to end it again without hurt feelings?

She knew he cared about her, cared a lot. It would remain to be seen if he cared enough to take it a step further. And did she?

Yes, she decided, yes she did care about him. Enough to not want his feelings to get hurt, and even more, so much that she wanted to be with him as much as possible, spend time with him, do things with him – not only sex, though that was great, but other stuff. And it didn't matter that there were things about him that irritated or even annoyed her, didn't matter that she had never even considered him as eligible, that was past. This was a whole new Chandler, he had already admirably proven himself as her lover, and everything pointed to him as worthy of even more. It just needed time.

After some 20 minutes he came back into the Launderama, with a big paper bag from the Chinese take-out place in his hand and that wide, attractive smile on his face. Monica smiled back, thinking that she must look like a complete idiot, but couldn't care. Neither of them had changed before they left for the Launderama, and he was still in his work clothes minus jacket and tie, and with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows. Now he sauntered over to her, straddled the bench across from her and put the bag down between them, then he took her head in his hands and kissed her. A part of her was anxious – what if anybody they knew saw them? – but mostly she was happy, so ridiculously, soppily, thrillingly happy. She put her hands on his shoulders and let the kiss linger, until the savory smells from the bag got the better of her.

"So what have we got? Oh wow …"

He had indeed brought a lot, and quite a lot of her favorite Chinese foods.

"This is too much, how can we eat all this?"

"Really? I guess I'm so used to getting food for Joey as well. Don't worry about it, we can leave the rest for him. Drink?"

He had thought of drinks too, several cans. His face fell when she took out a cola and frowned at it.

"Oh shoot – I forgot, you always have Diet Coke."

"Forget it. No, it's okay, honestly. For now. Just remember next time."

"I will" he promised earnestly and offered her a box of rice with chicken and vegetables. "Here you go. There's some dessert too, but we can leave that for Joey too, if you don't want it."

She looked into the bag again. "And Fortune Cookies? Really? How much did you spend?"

"Cookies? Plural? No, they only put one in – just as a favor, I didn't pay for it. We can share it later."

They spent the next half hour companionably sharing the food, watching the machines and the other customers – the elderly guy had left and been replaced by two giggling teenage girls who oohed and aahed over a magazine, while the lady with the Stephen-King-paperback was still glued to it although her machine had long finished. They couldn't quite make out the title of the book, and Chandler thought it was _Insomnia_ while Monica thought it was _Rose Madder_.

When they were both full, there was still a lot left in the bag, but Chandler insisted it was no problem, and Monica insisted on wrapping it all up securely and repacking it. Then Chandler got coffees from the machine which Monica had never liked before but now thought were drinkable after all. Just as he returned, the watch of the lady with the paperback beeped and she startled and dropped the book. It turned out to be _Desperation_ and they hid their faces in each other's hands to hide their smiles while the flustered lady picked up her book and started the dryer.

One of their own machines had finished and Monica got up to start the dryer. When she returned, Chandler held out the Fortune Cookie he had already unpacked.

"Let's do it together, like a wishbone" he suggested and winked.

They each took hold of an end and carefully broke it up, retrieved the small piece of paper and bent over it together.

"I knew it!" Chandler exclaimed and Monica laughed.

The Fortune Cookie message read:

'_Happiness is an activity.'_

"Wow, that's … perfect. If only someone had told me that sooner!" said Chandler. "Here, will you keep it or should I?"

"Do you want to keep it?"

"Yeah, I really like that." And he took out his wallet and placed the paper carefully inside. Monica watched him and wondered how she had never noticed how nice his hands looked. And how blue his eyes were. Now he looked at her and winked.

"So, should we pursue some more happiness now?"

She cast a careful glance at the booklady – still absorbed - and the teenagers - still ignoring them – and sighed wistfully. "Still an hour to go" she said. But Chandler picked up the laundry basket, put the bag with the food inside and placed it on the bench behind him so that it gave him a little cover from anyone entering the Launderama. Then he drew Monica close and lifted her legs across his so she almost sat on his lap. She wrapped an arm around him and put her hand on his face, trailed her fingers across his cheek, lingered on the little mole near the corner of his mouth, then traced his brow and his hairline down to his ear, where she put her little finger in and wiggled it a little, until he shook her off. She continued down his neck to his collar where he had left the first two buttons of his shirt open and slid her hand under it over his shoulder. They kissed again and teased each other's tongue tips playfully. She could still taste the sweet-and-sour pork rice and the coffee on him and somehow it excited her, as did his hands in her hair on the back of her neck and on the small of her back where he was gently pulling her blouse out of her jeans. She took her hand out from under his collar and pushed it between two buttons over his chest and stomach where she slid her fingertips through his chest-hair. She could feel his heartbeat under her hand and it almost seemed to echo her own. His hand went slowly up her spine, his fingertip lingering over each vertebra, until it reached her neck and then went down again.

Chandler got the next machine when it finished and she the third one. Then they waited and made out some more – a lot more - until the last dryer had stopped. When they disentangled and got up, Monica felt almost dizzy with excitement, and as she picked up the basket she noticed the considerable bulge in Chandler's pants and giggled helplessly. Chandler sighed and then chuckled too. They unloaded the machines dividing the laundry between them and Chandler allowed her to fold his shirts and towels for him though he drew the line at his boxers.

When they left the Launderama and headed home it was almost midnight. They could see from the stairs that there was a light on in no. 19 and heard faint TV sounds. Chandler sighed and kissed her quickly.

"I'll sneak over later" he promised and winked. "We still have some more happiness to do."

He actually waited until she was in her apartment which she found really sweet. She shut the door and put the light on. The red light on the answering machine was blinking and she let the message run while she carried the laundry basket into her bedroom.

The message was from Ross telling her that he would fly home late the next day. He hadn't been able to find Emily. And Monica was fairly sure that he hadn't dared to talk to Rachel.


	9. Chapter 9: Towel Talk

_A/N: I feel like I need to warn you here, this chapter contains stuff that's – maybe/probably – a little too gross for some of you. I wasn't really sure if I should include it, but ever since Amanda Palmer had one of her tweet storms about this back in February and got so many positive reactions about it (including a tweet from me which she retweeted – that was so awesome), I couldn't stop thinking about it and really felt like I had to write about it ever since. And so far it does feel right to me, and maybe I'm wrong and you're all okay with it too, but if it you're not, if it freaks you out too much, and you absolutely can't live with it, then okay, I can take it out again. No problem. But I had to try at least. Do let me know what you think and please don't hate me._

_And Katelyn, thank you so much. That review means a lot to me. I'm definitely going to write some alternative Mondler stuff sometime later, but I need to finish this first. FYI, I had planned to continue this at least up to the bathtub scene in TOW All the Kissing. After that we'll see._

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When Chandler entered no. 19, Joey was slouched in his chair watching a crime show, and barely turned his head. The chick and the duck were sitting on the chair armrests, the duck grooming itself and the chick already with its head under its wing. Chandler put the paper bag with the remainder of the take-away on the kitchen counter and lugged his laundry bag to his room.

"Hey Joe."

"Hi. Where've you been? Laundry? At this hour?"

"Well, yeah, Monica wanted to do hers still today and I thought I'd keep her company."

"Ah. Cool. What've you got there?"

"Chinese." Joey wrinkled his nose, but inspected the bag anyway and fished out a container with deep fried pork. The duck put its head in the bag and rummaged, until Joey slapped it away indignantly, still munching happily. Chandler contemplated the laundry bag, but felt too weary to put the stuff away and plopped down in his TV chair instead. In a minute he would take a shower and get out his sleeping things, but for now he was content to just hang, hoping that Joey would turn in soon.

At the next commercial break Joey got up and put the bag from the take-out place back on the counter, then he stretched and yawned. And looked Chandler up and down while he did so.

"So how was work?"

Chandler pretended to be absorbed by the toothpaste commercial which he actually found pretty boring. Just the color of the paste gave him tons of ideas how to do it differently. Maybe he should quit his job and try to go into advertising.

"Terrible. I couldn't concentrate. What about you? Didn't you have a date?"

"Nah. Tomorrow. She had to help out at her sister's. And I'm still kinda beat."

"Yeah, me too. I'm going to hit the shower and turn in."

"Jetlag's a bitch, huh?"

"Yup. It's weird."

Joey got his night snacks out of the fridge and went into his room, the duck trailing after him. The chick who hadn't taken its head out from under its wing, remained on the chair. When Chandler headed off to the shower, Joey put his head out of his door.

"Oh, be careful with the toilet. There's still some feathers in it. It works – but … well."

"Good to know, thanks Joe. Just as long as it doesn't fly away."

Joey just shook his head and shut his door again. Chandler sighed and went into the bathroom. Under the shower – where he still found some feathers stuck to the curtain – he thought about his laundry date with Monica. And their session on the couch. Wow, that couch. How often had he sat or lain on it, spent the night on it a couple of times, and never in all that time even thought about having sex on it? True, he had sometimes wondered if Monica or Rachel had had gone for it there, but could never picture it somehow. And of course, the same applied to the kitchen table. Where would they go next? His room? Maybe the barcalounger? The kitchen counter? The foosball table probably wouldn't be able to take it. Or maybe somewhere else, outside the apartments … say, his office. There was a thought. If he could smuggle Monica in late, when everybody had left, they'd have more privacy there. It was definitely worth thinking about, if things continued like they had so far.

If they did. Chandler's blissful grin faded again. True, things were going so great, but could this really last? Would they run out of places to have sex in at some point? And if they did, would Monica still want him? He still wasn't sure if she wanted more from him than just sex. Hell, he wasn't completely sure if he himself wanted more than that. But … there had been those moments.

Like, when he had taken her hand after their morning round and she had squeezed it back. Like, when they had snuggled and spooned before going to sleep. And the way they had made out at the Launderama, that had somehow been something else again, so tender and so … sweet. Like a normal couple. Anybody who didn't know them personally would have taken them for one. A normal ordinary couple, on their fourth or fifth date at least.

And the fortune cookie message. It was so weirdly perfect. He was happy with Monica, happy doing it with her, but also happy being with her. Happier than he had been for a long time, maybe ever.

We'll see, he thought. It's still too early. A little over three days. We'll just have to wait and see.

He put on boxers and a t-shirt, and then forced himself to wait in his room for a while, until he was pretty sure that Joey was asleep or at least safely turned in. At last he put on his robe and socks (he never wore slippers, they reminded him too much of Mr. Heckles) and cautiously sneaked out of the apartment. At the door he realized that his heartbeat had sped up and his mouth had gone dry.

When he entered no. 20, Monica was nowhere to be seen. The apartment was dark, but the light in the bedroom was on and the bedcover turned up. Chandler realized that she was in the bathroom and went over to knock softly on the door.

"Mon?"

"I'm taking a bath" she replied. She was indeed, up to her neck in bubbles, and there were candles standing on the rim of the tub, and a glass of wine. It all looked … really nice.

Screw that. It looked hot. Literally steaming.

Monica smiled at him as he stood there gaping, and stretched luxuriously.

"I really wanted a bath. It feels incredibly good. Would you like to join me?"

"Well … maybe some other time. I just showered." He sat down on the rim and deftly caught her foot in his hands as she tried to slip it under his robe, held it fast and started to tickle it. Monica yelped and pulled it back, splashing him in the struggle.

"How long have you been in there? Your skin's getting all wrinkly."

"Not that long. This is so good. But alright, I'm coming out. Hand me that towel?"

Chandler spread the big towel out and held it up for her, then he wrapped it around her and pulled her close. She was hot and wet and steamy and smelled incredibly nice of bath oils and shampoo. When they kissed it felt like an electric charge went through him. Monica moaned softly and slipped her arms around his waist. His t-shirt got soaked where she pressed against him and the part of his boxers where his erection poked at her lower belly acquired a big wet stain. The towel fell from her shoulders over Chandler's arms and he started to gently rub her dry, with long slow strokes, first her back and buttocks and then her sides and part of her arms. When he reached her shoulders, she stepped back a little and he bent his knees slightly and rubbed the towel over her belly and thighs, and finally over her breasts. Monica held still, breathing heavily with her eyes closed and her hands clawing his shoulders. When he got up again to kiss her, her nipples had become hard little knobs, and her pupils were huge and dark. She put her hand on his erect penis that was poking out of his boxers and gently stroked it while her tongue teased his playfully. Chandler found he couldn't breathe properly and had to come up for air. His robe had become too hot for him and he took it off and put it across a towel holder. Monica grinned and took the towel from him to wrap it tightly around her and fasten it under her arm. Then she pulled the plug of the bath, blew out the candles and disentangled the shower curtain, while Chandler just watched her, mesmerized. She let him slip a hand under the towel at her back and just squirmed a little when he stroked her buttocks, but continued to drain and clean the tub. While she ran the shower to dissolve the remaining foam and bent over to flush it to the drain he got behind her and ran both of his hands up her legs and over her buttocks, then he pressed himself against her, pushing his erect penis between her thighs just under her buttocks and rubbing the tip against her vulva from behind. She held on to the bathtub rim and suddenly clenched the muscles in her buttocks and pelvis around him and Chandler almost lost it.

They remained like this for a moment longer or too, savoring the sensation, then Monica gently disengaged and turned around to snuggle against him for a kiss. He held her close and wouldn't let go, even when she started to walk backwards towards the bathroom door, and into the living room, steering her instead in front of him, never letting go of her lips. They made it to near Monica's bedroom door and there she stopped and took his head between her hands. Except for the light from the streetlamp outside and the lamp in her bedroom the room was dark and full of shadows.

"Do you remember? Us like this? " she whispered. Chandler opened his mouth to say that he didn't know what she was talking about, when suddenly he did.

"Nnn – oh, wow, yes, I do. Of course I do. You just had a bath, and you felt bad about something ..."

"Phoebe had moved out. And I … um …"

"And …?"

"Oh, the usual. I didn't have a boyfriend … and I thought I was impossible to live with."

"And I told you that that wasn't true and you were the most beautiful woman I've ever known. That is, I hope I did. "

"Of course you did. And it was so sweet. It really helped."

He smiled. "And I really meant that. Still do."

"Mmmmh. You know … if you hadn't had that horrible beard … and if you hadn't been more interested in my towel than in me …"

"In the towel? That's not true. I just said that so you wouldn't feel … uncomfortable. Or feel sorry for me."

"Sorry? Why?"

"Well, if you thought I wanted you and felt sorry for having to reject me. Or if you wanted me but thought I didn't really want you … oh god, it's complicated."

She smiled widely and then started to laugh. "Oh my god, so it is. I guess we didn't know each other so well back then. But I still think there could have been more."

"Yeah? That's … nice. So if Joey hadn't been waiting, and I hadn't grown that goatee …"

"Maybe. Who knows. But that's past. This is now." And she put her arms around his neck again and pressed against him. Chandler cast a glance at the desk under the window and decided it was too cluttered and probably not stable enough. The floor looked too uncomfortable right now. So he slid a hand down her side and under her knees and picked her up. She gasped and held on to his shoulders while he carried her into the bedroom, not without some puffing and heaving on the last yards. Then he put her down on the bed and slapped her hands away when she tried to pull him down over her. Instead he got her to stretch out still in the towel and took off his t-shirt and boxers as quickly as he could. When he crawled on the bed he noticed that he still had his socks on and tore them off impatiently which made Monica giggle. He glared at her indignantly which made her giggle even harder. The giggles turned to moans when lay down on his side half over her and kissed her while holding her arms to the bed. Then he broke the kiss and looked down at her, suddenly distracted.

"Chandler? What's wrong?"

"Hmm? Oh – I just thought of something … Mon, do you still use protection? I mean you said –"

"I know. And yes, I put my diaphragm in when I got home earlier."

"Is it enough? Shouldn't we use a condom too?"

"No, it's enough. I'll be on my – erm … well, it's safe now. Really."

"On your what? Your period? When?"

Monica squirmed. "Why do you have to know?"

"I just do. Come on, Mon, it's me, you can talk to me. I mean we had sex now – what? Six times? Seven?"

"I know. But I … Its just weird."

"Shh. You can really talk to me, you know. I mean, I know – I picked up a bit."

"What? How? And when?"

"Well, you know – stuff. Here and there. Mostly from my mother."

"WHAT? From your mother?"

"Yeah, well, she thought there was a lot of stuff men should know about female things. She thought it would help me with women. It didn't really, just embarrassed me a lot, but sometimes it does come in handy."

"I can't believe your mother talked to you about her – I mean, my mother never even talked to me about this. I had to pick up everything from books. And Rachel. But mostly from books."

"Well, my mother always wanted me to read her books and talk to her about it and I hated it. So she just talked to me about all that stuff. It was important to her. Don't you remember when she was at Jay Leno's she said she bought me my first condoms? This was true you know. I've still got one in my wallet."

"Wow. So now you're quite the expert, huh?"

"No, not really. I was too embarrassed to listen. And mostly I didn't need to. But then there was – then I was with a woman who had a lot of problems with her period …"

"Who was it?"

He squirmed a little. "Actually, it was Janice."

"Janice? Oh. I guess it figures, she's the one you were with the longest."

"Well, she always had cramps and stuff, and I wanted to help. She wouldn't hear of it, wouldn't even be with me when she was on her period, but then I convinced her that I really didn't mind and gave her a massage when she had cramps and it did make her feel better."

Monica stared at him. "You did? And it didn't creep you out? I thought guys are always freaked out by blood."

"Well … it's not that bad. I mean, I don't like it much, but I'm not freaked out by it. Besides, I hardly got to see any. She changed her pads so often our toilet got clogged."

Monica shuddered. "Uugggh! Please!"

"And one time we … erm, okay. Enough."

"What? What did you do? Tell me!" Monica got up on her elbows and turned to him. Chandler was mentally kicking himself for letting his tongue run away with him.

"No. I can't. Sorry. You'll freak."

"I'm freaking already."

"And you'll kick me out."

"No." Her gaze softened and she put her hand behind his hand. "I won't. I promise."

He looked at her, biting his lip.

"So what? What did you do?"

"Well, we … My mother told me it would help, and that it wouldn't be messy because it somehow made the bleeding stop while you did it, so … we did it."

"Did what? You did … WHAT? Oh my god! You did it while she was on her period? EEEEWWWWW!"

Chandler turned on his back and sighed. "See? I told you you'd freak. If it helps, so did Janice. That's why we only did it the one time. And it wasn't messy at all."

Monica stared at him, still propped on her elbow.

"How can it not be messy?"

"I told you, the bleeding mostly stops during – is held back – whatever. We also put a lot of towels under … But there weren't really needed."

"Wow. I mean … wow. I never heard of anyone doing that."

Chandler opened his mouth and closed it again.

"What?"

"Well … I talked about it with Joey afterwards. Because he asked me about all the towels … and it turned out he did it too."

Monica lay back and held her head in her hands.

"Oh my god, this keeps getting worse and worse. Joey? I'd thought he'd be sure to freak."

"No, he was okay with it, at least until he had to buy a new mattress …"

Monica flinched and covered her eyes. Chandler got on his knees and gently pulled her hands away.

"Mon? I really didn't mean to freak you out. Are you okay? We don't need to talk about this if you don't want too. I just wanted you to know that – I'm okay with this. I want to be involved. Also I can use condoms from now on, every time, I have no problem with that."

Monica kept her face scrunched up. Her breathing was short. Chandler closed his eyes and ground his teeth.

Great. Can't believe you screwed up again there, Bing. Just when everything went so well. Couldn't leave it alone, did you? This is Monica, for crying out loud.

He waited a few moments longer and when Monica still didn't react he sighed and sat on the edge of the back.

"Okay, I'll let myself out."

"What? Chandler, wait, what do you mean?"

"Well, if I freak you out this much, we can't go on any longer, can we?"

"No, it's not like that. You don't freak me out. It's just me … I can't … I'm just not used to this."

She put her arms around his shoulders and leaned against him. "But I'll be okay. I guess. Eventually."

"Are you sure? It's not me?" She nodded emphatically and he heaved a sigh of relief.

"Thank god. I really thought I'd screwed it up this time."

"You didn't. Well, maybe a little. You really should know me better by now."

"Yeah, well, you keep surprising me. Especially since that night in London I feel like … you're a whole new person. Like I'm getting to know you all over again. And in a totally new way."

She tightened her arms around him and kissed his cheek and the hollow of his neck.

"I know. It's the same for me. You're so different now."

He turned towards her and they sank back on the bed together. He propped himself up over her and she buried her fingers in his hair, hooked a leg over his waist and kissed him fiercely. He pushed one arm under her shoulders, holding her to him while he slid his other hand up her thigh under the towel where it got busy on her breasts and stomach. Little by little he pushed the towel aside and kissed his way down her body length, ignoring her frantic efforts to pull him close and inside. When he slid first one and then two fingers inside her, she arched her back and pressed her knees against his ribs. He continued wriggling his finger tips and pushing against her with his thumb until she shuddered and bucked and screamed softly. She pulled his head up hungry for his kiss and groped for him, blindly determined now and he gave in and let her guide him inside. For a moment they held still like that and stared at each other. Monica wrapped her legs about him, crossing her ankles on his ass and pressing her arms on his back as if she wanted to crack his ribs. He started to thrust into her, first gently and slowly and then faster, and she rocked with him, eyes shut tight and breathing in heavily with each thrust. That way they slowly slid up the bed, driven forward inch by inch, until Monica's head touched the headboard, and Chandler stopped for a moment, disconcerted. Monica put her hands against the board and pushed herself off it and they continued in this fashion until Chandler felt he couldn't hold it back any longer. His shoulders and back were slippery with sweat and he was breathing heavily. The urge to let go became unbearable, was sweet torture. Then Monica tightened her vaginal muscles and he tensed and groaned, losing his rhythm.

"Jeez, Mon … don't …"

"It's okay, go on, you don't have to wait … I'm close … oh god … almost ..."

"I can't … oh god … ooooohhhhhh …."

She clenched around him again as he came violently and then collapsed on top of her, just barely holding himself up enough not to crush her. She kept her legs hooked around his and grabbed his hips and ass with both hands now, grinding against him.

"Yessss … just a little longer …. Oh, yes …"

"Okay … okay … I'm not going anywhere … ohhhh… wait, I think … oooohhhh …"

And he started thrusting again. Her eyes flew open and she stared at him open-mouthed.

"What? Didn't you ..?"

"Yes … but I'm still good …. Ooohhh, god, this is sooo … oooh ..." Panting heavily he pushed both his hands under her ass and lifted her up, changing the angle. Monica screamed and stiffened as her orgasm hit her and he slowed a little again as he waited for her to recover. She wrapped her arms around his head and cradled it against her breast and after a while he came again, shuddering and trembling. When he started to move away from her she wouldn't let him go and they remained like that a while longer, kissing lazily, their breathing slowing again. At last she did let him go and they lay on their sides, snuggling, legs intertwined.

"Wow. I mean that was … wow."

"I know! And that second time … did that happen to you before?"

He considered. "Umm … I'm not sure. It might have once or twice, but I never got to, you know, finish. That's so incredible. You are incredible."

Monica grinned widely and kissed him. "You too. You really are."

"That's because you make me." She smiled smugly at that and put her face against his chest resting her head on his arm. He put his other arm around her and slowly stroked her back.

Incredible? Maybe. Happy? Definitely.


	10. Chapter 10: Oversleeping

_A/N: Okay, so it seems I've underestimated all you guys, but better safe than sorry – I'm __a little __scared of shit storms. Thank you for all your nice reviews, especially Katelyn. I've actually got a post series Mondler story in mind, but it still needs to simmer a little longer. But I'll get there eventually, promised._

_._

_._

They remained lying like that on the bed, just snuggling and exchanging soft little kisses, until Monica noticed that Chandler's skin on his back and arms had gotten cooler.

"Let's get under the covers" she whispered and he nodded sleepily and slowly sat up, groping for the cover and yawning. Monica suddenly realized that she had to pee and swung her legs off the bed.

"Actually I … um, be right back."

"Okay. Could you hand me my … oh thanks. Uugh, they're still wet …"

"Really? Let me see. Oh, yeah. You can put it on the chair by the window, it'll be dry in the morning."

"Okay." Actually his boxers seemed to be almost dry and he put them on, then he spread the t-shirt over the back of the chair. Monica put on her robe and went to the bathroom where she realized that she had left the light on. Her clothes were still lying on the hamper. She peed as fast as she could hoping that Chandler couldn't hear her and scolding herself for her idiotic inhibitions.

She brushed her teeth and put on some night cream, collected her clothes and put out the light as she left the bathroom. Back in her bedroom she remained standing in the door for a moment and looked at Chandler. He was lying on his side on the far side of the bed with one arm under the pillow and the cover drawn up almost to his chin, fast asleep. She stared at him, drinking in his sight, the peacefulness of it, and felt her throat go dry. It was all so sweet somehow, so … perfect. If only it could be like this forever.

She took a deep breath and mentally shook herself, then got out a pj shorty and put her robe away. When she slipped under the cover Chandler stirred slightly, but didn't wake up. She put out the light and snuggled close to him, until she felt his breath on her face and felt another wave of tenderness rising up when he put his hand over hers and drew it close, holding it to his chest.

She woke from a strange dream where she couldn't find her clothes and had to get to her closet crossing a room full of people at some social function with a hammering contest. The sounds continued and she realized it was Phoebe pounding on her door and calling her name.

"Monica? Monica? Can I come in?"

Oh my god, she was actually opening the door already. Monica shot up and jumped out of the bed in a blind panic. Chandler's eyes flew open and he raised it head, staring at her wildly. She gestured frantically at him and he pulled the covers over his head and curled up tight.

"Wait! Don't come in! I'm coming!" She grabbed her robe and snagged the sleeves in her haste to pull it on. Thankfully Phoebe remained outside the door. Monica opened the door just enough to slide through sideways and shut it again behind her, blinking in the bright sunlight that streamed through the living room window.

Oh my god, they had overslept.

"Monica? Is everything alright?" Phoebe stared at her curiously with her big belly thrust out in front of her.

"What? Oh yeah, totally. I think … I think I overslept."

"You? What happened?"

"I don't know. It was late, I took a bath … What time is it?"

"Just after eight. Wow, this isn't like you. Are you really okay?"

"Yes, of course I am. Why shouldn't I be? And you? What's up with you?"

Phoebe flapped her arms dejectedly and sighed. "Oh .. I dunno. Tired."

"What are you doing here? Aren't Frank and Alice visiting today?"

Phoebe groaned. "Oh yes, they are. That's actually the problem. They are so nice, but – they keep feeling me up. Um, I mean, they feel my belly. Like all the time. They can't get enough of the triplets."

"Well, can you blame them?"

"I know! But it's driving me crazy! They wouldn't even let me sleep!"

She walked heavily to the big chair and stared at it dejectedly. Monica fumbled with the belt on her robe and tried hard not to look back to her bedroom.

"What is it, are you okay?"

Phoebe's shoulders slumped. "I just know, if I sit down now, I'll need to pee."

"Oookaaaayy … then why don't you go pee now and get it out of the way?" And please take your time, she added silently.

Phoebe put her head to one side, considering. "You know, that's actually a really good idea. Thanks Mon. I'll do that."

"Take your time, sweetie. I'll make breakfast. Better late than never, I guess!"

"Uh-hu …" and Phoebe shlepped to the bathroom. Monica slowly backed towards her bedroom door until Phoebe was safely in the bathroom, then she turned and bolted into the bedroom where she collided with Chandler. He had gotten out of bed and put on his t-shirt and socks. His hair was wildly tousled and crazily on end. It looked funny, but she didn't feel like laughing at all.

"Come on, you have to get out of here, before she comes out! Now go!"

"Okay, okay … Mon, where's my – oh dear god, I left my robe in the bathroom …"

"WHAT?" Monica's breath caught. "Oh god, she'll find it … well, okay, I'll think of something. But now go! Quick!"

Chandler smiled at her worriedly and hurried out of the bedroom. Monica followed him as he ran to the door as quietly as he could. When he arrived in the hallway however he turned back.

"Mon …" She shushed him impatiently, but he just caught her hand, pulled her close and kissed her quickly and firmly. She closed her eyes and returned the kiss, then pushed him away.

"See you" she whispered and shut the door, slumping against it exhausted.

That had been close. Much too close. They really would have to be more careful.

She put the kettle to boil for Phoebe's tea, started the coffee machine and got out some breakfast things, then she went back to her bedroom. By the time she had put her sweats on and straightened the bed, Phoebe finally emerged from the bathroom, a funny expression on her face.

"Mon? Whose robe is that in your bathroom?"

"Huh? What robe?"

"Um, blue and white tartan, kinda looks familiar – oh, I know, it's Chandler's! He must have showered here again. Didn't you hear him? Did he actually walk around naked in here?"

"WHAT? Chandler? Naked? Eww. Nonono. No, he didn't. NO!"

"Jeez, Monica, calm down, you're freaking me out!" Phoebe sat down carefully at the kitchen table. "You're waking the triplets. Just when they settled down!"

"Sorry. Just the idea you know … Oh, come to think of it, he gave me that robe, because he wasn't sure how to wash it and I offered to do it for him. And then I forgot."

"You forgot?" Phoebe frowned at her. "Monica, I've been meaning to ask …"

"What?"

"I know you said no, but I keep getting the weirdest vibes. Did you really not have sex in London?"

Monica had known that Phoebe would not let go so easily and had mentally prepared herself.

"No, I did not. How could I? There was really no time!"

"Oh, okay. If you say so. No big deal." And just when Monica started to relax again "But what about here?"

"Here? You mean here, in my apartment?" She tried to appear casual, but only managed to laugh nervously. "Where did that come from?"

"No, not necessarily here. I mean back here, in New York. Maybe in your apartment, or maybe … somewhere else."

"I … no, Phoebe, I did not. And if I had … who would I have sex with? There is no one."

Phoebe still eyed her curiously. "Oh, I don't know. Someone you met. Maybe at work."

"Hah! They all hate me there, you know that. Besides, they're all jerks."

"Maybe that's why, you know, someone who wants to suck up to you, get on your good side ..."

"Phoebe! I'd never do that! Stop it, will you? Here's your tea. I'm going to shower, before the guys come over."

"Oh okay." Phoebe poured herself a cup of herbal tea. Then, just as Monica went to the bathroom, she added: "But you do know you got a hickey?"

Monica started violently. "WHAT? Where?"

Phoebe smirked. "Just kidding. No seriously, there's nothing! And why should there be one?"

Monica relaxed again. "Right! Why should there?"

Safely in the bathroom again she couldn't help but check thoroughly though. She did find some hickeys, but they were all in 'safe' places below the neckline, and she heaved a sigh of relief. Hiding from Phoebe was going to be the hardest, she was sure of that. She would probably be the one who found them out first.

When she left the bathroom again to get dressed in her bedroom, Phoebe was on the phone with Frank and Alice.

"How long do you have to be in Delaware? No, it's alright, I don't think they'll come before that … Honestly sometimes it feels like they'll never come – what? Alright, I'll do my best. No they're asleep right now, I'll tell them goodbye from you later. Yes, that too. Okay now. Oh, I'm really sorry, I had to leave, but it was an emergency. Yes, well, you know, Monica …" she caught her stare and winked. "No, it's all better now. I'll be home later. Bye!"

"What did you tell them about me?"

"Well, I had to tell them something, didn't I? If I told them I didn't want them to touch me all the time, they would have been hurt. It's only for a few weeks more ... - .. oh, ouch, oh no. They're awake!"

"Yes, but what exactly … are they? Does it hurt?"

Phoebe put her arms around her huge belly and closed her eyes, rocking a little on her chair.

"No … not exactly … Ah, I think it was only one of them. They've settled again. Uh, that was close."

She took her cup up again and sipped her tea. "It's alright again, go on, get dressed."

Monica sighed. "Fine."

When she had almost finished dressing and straightening her room, she heard Chandler enter the apartment and talk to Phoebe. For a moment she tensed, then Phoebe laughed loudly at something and she relaxed again. All was normal. She wondered if she should go out at once or wait a little, and shook her head at herself and at how hard it was suddenly to act normal and unconcerned. As if all at once she had forgotten how.

She left the bedroom and Chandler smiled at her and said hey, like he always did, and she heyed him back, just as always. He was in his work clothes – a dark grey suit this time with a rather loud red tie – and he had brought some breakfast things with him, cereals and bagels. He had also got the coffee going, for which Monica was really grateful. She busied herself in the kitchen and then took her usual place near the refrigerator, trying not to look at Chandler too much, all the time wondering how Phoebe could fail to pick up on the heightened tension or the vibes that surely must fill the very air between them. But Phoebe was primarily concerned with the triplets again, rubbing her belly and shouting at them down her blouse.

"Will you stop that … Chandler!"

"What?"

"No, not you, little Chandler. He's kicking Leslie again."

"Oh no. Really?"

"Yeah. It's so mean!"

"How can you tell it's Chandler?" Monica asked, exasperated. Phoebe smirked.

"With him I can always tell. I'm never sure about Leslie and Frank, but I know when it's Chandler."

"Aww, that's so sweet …"

"Yeah, he's the meanest. I hope they kick him out soon." Phoebe sighed exasperatedly and leaned back. Chandler and Monica exchanged confused looks and hastily avoided each other's gazes again. Chandler got the coffee and poured out a cup for Monica. When he offered it to Phoebe, she shook her head regretfully. "No, not in the mornings, or I'll never get a quiet moment until noon. But, uhm Chandler …"

"Yes, Phoebe?"

"Did Monica hook up with someone in London?"

"PHOEBE! Will you let it go?"

Chandler managed to look quite nonplussed. "Nn-no, I don't think so. No, I think I would have noticed that."

"Would you? She can be very sneaky."

Chandler grinned. "Yes, she can. But no, I don't think she did. Why do you want to know? You still think she had sex in London?"

"Well, I think something must have happened there. She's so … I don't know, different!"

"I'm **not** different!"

Chandler put his head to one side and looked at her earnestly. "I don't see anything different."

"Oh you guys would never notice something like that. But she is!"

"Really? Well, then I guess it's no use asking Joey either."

"No. Maybe Rachel would know."

"But she only arrived after … – I mean just before the wedding –"

"After what?! What happened?"

"What? Nothing happened!"

"Yes, it did! You said 'after'! What did Monica do before Rachel came?"

Chandler looked helplessly to Monica and back to Phoebe. "What do you mean? She didn't hook up with someone, that's for sure."

"Yeah, okay, but there was something else, wasn't there? WASN'T there?"

Monica took a deep breath and cut in.

"Yes there was. I – I got drunk."

"Yes, that's it, she did, Monica got drunk!" Chandler flailed his arms about excitedly and almost knocked over Phoebe's cup. "Roaring drunk!" He caught Monica's death glare and sat back again silently and abashed.

"Drunk? Why?"

"Well, my mother wouldn't let me alone, and a guy thought I was Ross's mother ..." Phoebe laughed shrilly at that and looked puzzled when Chandler remained serious. "So I got really upset, and I went to my room because I couldn't take it anymore. And there I drank some more …"

"And …?!" Phoebe asked sternly. Monica kept her eyes on her plate.

"And I ordered pizza."

Phoebe and Chandler both gasped in shock.

"What? You ate pizza, all alone?"

"Yes. And … and dessert. And some cookies."

Phoebe stared at Monica open-mouthed and Chandler grasped at his chest.

"Well … was it any good?" he asked hoarsely. Monica started and then caught herself.

"Well, yes, it was. It was good. It was … different. You know, not like pizza here, it was … really different. British pizza."

"What did you have on it?"

"Oh … lots of things. You know, this and that … some really hot stuff too. Just what I needed."

"Hot? Really?" Chandler asked, straight-faced.

"Yes, very. It really kept me going. I couldn't get enough of it. It was really … really … good."

"Jeez, Monica, don't get all worked up again. It was just pizza, right?"

"Yeah, but really gooood pizza. So good, it made me feel bad about our pizza here. And I wanted to stop, but couldn't. I really wish I could have some more."

Phoebe shook her head sympathetically. "Oh sweetie. That must have been hard. How much did you eat?"

Monica looked at her plate contritely. "Oh, a lot. I had a lot of it … all night. I couldn't get enough." She didn't dare to look at Chandler, it already took all self-control she could muster not to burst out laughing.

"I hope you didn't feel sick the next morning?" he asked and she could tell by his voice that he had as much trouble restraining himself as she did, and smiled.

"No, just a little … you know, tired. Battered."

"Oh Monica, I'm sorry. And I'm sorry I needled you so much. But now I know why I felt so funny about you since you came back. You didn't have sex, you had food!"

"A food hangover."

"And whiskey, don't forget that."

"Ah, that explains it then." Phoebe sat back contentedly. But only for a moment, then she grimaced and patted her belly again. "Oh no, here we go again …"

"Phoebe, why don't you lie on the couch for a while? Or – or you could lie on Rachel's bed and take a nap. I'm sure she won't mind, and anyway, I can make the bed again before she gets back."

"Yeah I could do that. That sounds good. Oh, do you know when she'll be back? And Ross?"

"Ross phoned yesterday, he said he would be flying out late today. I don't know about Rachel, she seemed to think there were no flights until the end of the week."

"Ah okay. Good. Now, could someone help me up?"

"I'll do it." Chandler jumped up and helped Phoebe stand up and turn toward Rachel's room. He waited at until she was safely inside and settled on the bed, then he shut the door and returned to the kitchen table. For a moment they remained silently listening for any sounds that might indicate that Phoebe had changed her mind, then they relaxed again. And started talking at the same time.

"Look, Monica, I'm sorry …"

"We really **have** to be more careful .."

They both stopped and gestured at each other to continue and then laughed. Chandler sat down next to her and kissed her quickly on the cheek. Then he took her hand, taking care to hold it under the table out of sight.

"Are you okay? I'm sorry we overslept. I'm sorry I fell asleep in the first place. I don't know how it happened."

She smiled. "I can. It was a long day. I was tired too. It doesn't matter. But we really have to be more careful in future."

He chuckled softly. "Yeah, that was a real shock. And all that nice morning wood wasted. Can you imagine Phoebe walking in on us? Think it would have scared the triplets right out of her?"

"Oh god! And in my bedroom too!" Monica shuddered and then laughed.

"Yeah. Hey, listen, I was thinking, how about I pick you up after work tonight?"

She considered. "But I have to work late. At least until 10."

"No problem. I'll be there. They don't know any of us there, do they?"

"No. Well Joey worked there for two days, but that was almost a year ago. Nobody else has been there. Yes, I would like that. It's so sweet!"

"Mmhm. Okay, it's a date then."

Monica smiled and put her head against his shoulder, and he put an arm around her and kissed her on the top of her head. Just when she lifted her mouth to his, they heard the door of no. 19 open and flew apart. Chandler snatched up the paper and Monica grabbed the coffee can.

Joey put his head in, still blinking sleepily.

"Morning … Hi, Monica. What time is it? I think I overslept."


	11. Chapter 11: Dinner Date

_Right, I guess this one got a little mushy. But don't worry, there'll be smut again in the next chapter up._

_Oh, and I put in the haircut, because right at the beginning of "TOW all the Kissing" Chandler's hair does look a good deal shorter than it was in TOW After Ross said Rachel. To me at least._

_Also, I didn't really want to involve her in the story too much, but the pretty blonde woman at the bar is supposed to be Mona in case you were wondering._

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.

.

When Chandler came home, he found Joey and his current date in the bathroom letting the duck swim in the bath and splashing themselves.

"Hello children!"

"Hi Chandler. Did you get a haircut?"

"No, I didn't. Why, do you think I should?"

"No, you're fine, I just thought you looked different. Oh, this is Tanya, my date."

"Hi there. What are you doing with the duck?"

"Here, check this out, we taught him to turn on the shower!"

"Wow. Have you learned how to breathe under water in case he decides he wants to swim to your bedroom?"

"Na, it'll be alright. He won't want his buddy to drown. Speaking of which, where's the chick?"

"Watching TV again. I told you it was a mistake to teach him to work the remote. One of these days he'll find the Cooking Channel and whose fault will that be?"

Tanya laughed hard at that. "Poor little guy! Joey, we have to leave now, the movie starts in half an hour."

"Right!" Joey got up and dried his hands. "Chandler, you want to come too?"

"No, I'm good, have fun you two."

"Really?" Joey frowned at him. "I mean, it's no problem. Tanya could set you up with her sister- "

"Sure I could, she'd love to. Only not today, she's still redecorating her flat."

"No, thanks, but really, I'm pretty tired. And I've got a long day at work tomorrow. I'll just hang."

"Okay." Joey wasn't convinced, but let himself be pulled away by Tanya, who had already got his coat. "See you later!"

Chandler let out a sigh of relief when the door closed behind the two of them and took off his jacket. It was only a quarter to 8, still much too early, even if he walked all the way to the Allessandro's to pick up Monica at 10, so he just plopped into his barcalounger and stretched out his legs. The chick fluttered up from the table and joined him on the armrest, clucking at him, until he scratched him on the neck under his little crest, the way he liked it. After a while the TV got on his nerves and he switched it off and just closed his eyes.

Work had been pretty strenuous again, but not nearly as bad as yesterday. Going to work yesterday had been a mistake, since Mondays were always extra stressing, because of all the accumulated reports over the weekend and his week long absence had made matters even worse. Tuesdays were better because of the staff meetings where he could appoint everybody on his team their tasks and spread the work load around. Today everything had turned out even better than he'd hoped, despite his being late due to the oversleeping. Tomorrow would be a breeze, since Wednesdays were the easiest days, then on Thursday things got stressful again when all the tasks were finished and the reports started to accumulate. On Fridays everybody put in as little work as possible and tried to escape into the weekend as soon as they could.

And tonight … he'd see Monica again. Spend some time with her. Maybe – probably – have some more sex. And even, if he was extra lucky and she wasn't too freaked out by their oversleeping, he'd spend the night with her again.

Chandler smiled blissfully and nestled against the back of the chair. Mmmmhm, sleeping with Monica, just sleeping with her in her bed, had been so so so nice. Hearing her breathe, smelling her hair and skin, feeling her body warmth close to him, all that was so incredibly soothing and comforting. He used to think that someone as tightly wound and compulsive as she would be restless in her sleep, given to kicking and gnashing her teeth, but so far she hadn't done any of those things. Maybe all the sex had tired her out. His grin broadened. It had been – what? Four days? And hardly 10 hours at a stretch in all that time where they didn't have sex. Since that night in London and especially since their return to New York they had been going at it pretty much nonstop. He was feeling sore in places he hadn't known could get sore, for the first time in years – hell, for the first time ever - he had scratches from a woman's nails on his back, his libido seemed to have reached heights he never knew he could achieve and he had had more orgasms in those four days than he had had in a year. And each one only made him want more, as if he could never get enough anymore. The most amazing thing about it was that the sex was so invariably good, that no matter how and when they went for it, the result was quite spectacular. He had had great sex with other women, but it had always been varied, there had been great times followed by not-so-great times or worse, even failures when one of them or both hadn't been in the mood or couldn't get it to work. Especially the first times were always a toss-up at best, sometimes just alright, but more often just awkward and fumbling until they got adjusted to each other.

Not so with Monica. The first time with her had been … unbelievable. The way she had come on to him so strongly from the word go, thrown herself at him with total abandon and then gone at it with such white-hot passion, screaming and clawing at him and climaxing after just a few minutes had to be the most erotic experience he had ever had. Not even his brief session with Aurora, that insatiable Italian with her harem of lovers, boyfriends and husbands that had until then been his record for raw animal sex came close to that. And with any other woman it would have ended right after her first – and probably only – climax with him finishing as quickly as he could. But with Monica he had suddenly wanted to prolong it, make the most of the occasion, and to his surprise he had found that he could go on, continue with her without flagging once, and actually finding the stamina and strength he had never thought he could have. It had been so great to make her come again and again, and finding it so easy, almost naturally. She didn't even have to tell him what she needed and how she wanted it, it had been as if her body had somehow transmitted all its secrets to him, opened itself for him to understand and act upon it accordingly.

And he had never before suspected that Monica could be such a bombshell in bed. True, he had been very surprised – and quite a bit turned on – when she explained about the seven erogenous zones and he had watched her turn herself on so effortlessly and spontaneously. But mostly he thought she would be rather bossy in bed, and uptight and bound in fixed rituals that never varied, someone who had to have everything just so. A lot like Janice in fact, when in reality she was absolutely nothing like Janice. Or any other woman he had slept with. Not one of them even came close.

And she still wanted him. That definitely was the most amazing thing about it.

When the duck started squawking and honking from the tub, he got up, went into the bathroom and lifted it out of the water, holding it by the wings so he wouldn't get splashed. The duck marched out of the bathroom and headed for Joey's room. Chandler let out the water and cleaned the tub perfunctorily, then he got himself a beer and returned to his chair. Still half an hour to go.

When he had finished half the bottle and turned the TV on and off again twice, he couldn't take it any longer and decided to go to the restaurant and find some way to spend the rest of the time near the place until it closed. He made sure the duck and chick were safe, picked up his coat and left the apartment.

When he arrived at the little side street where the restaurant was situated, it found that the light was still on in the dining room and there were still a few guests there, so he scanned the street for some place to pass the time. He didn't want to attract the attention of the waiters or the owner of the restaurant any more than he had to, but there wasn't a café or diner or even a supermarket near the place. Just a post office, a photographer's, a hardware store, a computer store, and just across from the restaurant a hairdresser that was still open … ah, that could work.

Half an hour later he left the hairdresser again with rather mixed feelings. They had cut his hair too short for his liking and charged him rather too much for it, but he had been able to keep the restaurant's entrance in his sight all the time and it had passed the time. He had seen the last guests leave and shortly after half a dozen waiters and kitchen staff members following them, and now the place seemed almost empty. The dining room was now dark and deserted. At the bar the barkeeper was cleaning out the tabs and wiping down the counter, while a pretty young woman with short blonde hair checked inventory lists against the cashier records at a side table. She looked inquiringly at Chandler.

"Sorry, but we're closed now."

"That's okay, I'm looking for Monica Geller. Can I just ..?"

"Oh sure, the door over there. She's in the kitchen. Are you her … erm- "

"Just a friend" he smiled and hurried to the door, thinking that she looked rather puzzled. At this place probably everybody was convinced that Monica had no friends. Going by the stuff she told them about her work, things weren't quite as bad now as they had been last winter when she had started in the job, but they were still not overly fond of her.

He found Monica alone in the big kitchen standing at one of the counters and tossing salad in a big sieve. She was still in her shapeless white chef smock and stiff hat, with her hair tucked under it. When she looked up and saw him in the door, her face lit up and her wide smile somehow made his heart-rate speed up. He smiled back at her and met her halfway as she came to him, pulled her close and kissed her hungrily. She pressed herself against him, standing on her toes, then she pulled back and looked at him laughing.

"Wow, you got a haircut!"

He grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, I went to that place across the street. I had to pass the time somehow."

"What? But they're no good. How much did you pay?"

"Too much, I know. But it doesn't matter."

"Of course it does! Did you want it that short?"

"No ... but I guess it'll grow back. I hope so. Unless they can stick it on again?"

She looked at his head critically. "They were just lazy. Who cut you, Senior or Junior?"

"Some elderly guy, so I guess the Senior. Junior did the sweeping."

"He always gets his lunch here, I could put something in his pasta, if you like."

He grinned. "Tempting … but better not. Let it go, Mon, it's not that bad."

She pursed her lips. "Well no, but …"

"Are you finished here? I thought, we could grab a pizza on our way home."

Monica smiled and snuggled closer to him. "Actually I have a much better idea. Here, I'll show you."

She took him by the hand and led the way through a door at the other end of the room. Behind it was what looked like a common room for the staff, with an adjoining locker room. Monica had laid one of the tables for two, with a bottle of red wine, and even put a candle on it, and a small vase containing a single lily. Chandler realized his mouth was hanging open and he shut it and swallowed.

"Wow, Monica, this looks … amazing."

"Do you like it? Or is it too romantic?"

"No – how do you mean, too romantic? How can it be too romantic?"

She had blushed a little. "Well … the candle and all – I mean, too romantic for us. But I don't know how you feel about this …"

"I love it" he said and then belatedly realized what she meant … and that he meant it too.

"You mean, because we're not romantic? But why shouldn't we be? I feel plenty romantic. In fact, everything that's happened since I went to bed on Friday in London has been the most romantic time of my life."

She stared at him. "Really? Oh, I'm so glad! I thought it couldn't be romantic for you, because all we did so far was ..."

"Sex? Just because we have sex all the time we can't be romantic? Oh come on."

"Well, I do think that too, I just thought you wouldn't want it … well, I'm glad you like it. Here, sit down, I'll get the food. Just have to finish the salad."

Chandler sat down and unfolded his napkin, then he got out his lighter and lightened the candle. Somewhere in his head guy #1 was grimacing and sneering, while guy #2 was gazing at the table entranced. Chandler resolutely decided to ignore the former and quite agreed with the latter. She had done it again. This woman was unbelievable.

Monica came back in with a big salad bowl which she put on the table. When she saw that he had lightened the candle, her face softened and Chandler thought he saw her swallow. Then she turned around quickly and started to take off her kitchen smock and hat and put them in a locker.

"Aww … okay, salad first or on the side?"

"Um … on the side? But I don't really care either way."

"On the side it is." She snatched up the plates. "Be right back."

Chandler half rose from his chair. "Can I help with –" but she was already in the kitchen busying herself with the plates, and he contented himself with pouring the wine. He had hardly finished when Monica came back and set two plates on the table that were heaped with conch pasta, vegetables and mussels. The delicious smell made Chandler realize how famished he was.

"Wow …" he said. "Did you – I hope you didn't make that special just for me?"

"For us" she corrected. "And no, these are actually leftovers. I made a little more when that dish was ordered and put it on the side – and well, here it is. Oh, there's more if you want."

"The wine too?"

"That's from my tab. Everybody here has one and I've hardly used mine."

"Great. Monica, this is perfect. I love it. If this is what romantic means I want to be all romantic from now on."

She smiled and wiggled in her seat, pleased and embarrassed at the same time.

"Well, dig in, then, don't let it get cold."

"Dig in?" he grinned. "Well, first things first … Here's to a wonderful, romantic chef." He raised his glass to her and she followed suit, smiling happily.

Then they ate and talked and ate some more and Chandler had a second plate and a good deal of the salad, and only stopped when he felt ready to burst.

"Wow, Mon, this is so great, but I really can't eat any more, no room left …"

"I know, me too. There's not much left anyway. I'm afraid there's no coffee though, the machine's already shut down."

"It doesn't matter. Doesn't go with the wine anyway." Chandler finished his glass and divided the rest of the bottle equally between them. They clinked their glasses and he took her free hand in his and raised it to his lips.

"Thanks for the dinner, Monica" he said softly. Monica stared at him and smiled.

"You're welcome."

They finished the wine, then Monica couldn't sit still any longer and started to clear the table. Chandler offered to help, but just got an impatient head shake from her and remained in his seat. Monica put the used plates and cutlery in the dishwasher and straightened the kitchen, then checked everything and went back into the staff room to get her coat from the locker. Chandler got up and blew out the candle. Together they left the kitchen and Monica turned out the lights. The barkeeper and the pretty blonde woman had already left and after checking the adjoining office and dining room Monica shut and locked the main door behind them.

As they walked to the subway, Chandler took Monica's hand and squeezed it lightly and she smiled and squeezed it back. They continued holding hands all the way home and kissed while they waited for the train and again when they were in their seats. He didn't know if his head was spinning from the wine, or the food or from sheer happiness or all of them together, and he didn't care. The Indian summer night was warm and balmy, he had eaten well and the most beautiful woman was walking next to him holding his hand. They was a pretty good chance they would have the most amazing sex later that night.

Could it get better than that?

Not really.


	12. Chapter 12 Getting soaped

_A/N: This chapter was actually a lot of fun to write :-) And yes, I do know that Starbuckmeggie did a shower scene too - a really great one too - but I couldn't resist trying for one myself and just hope it's different enough from hers. At least I tried. If I didn't succeed, then I'm truly sorry. If I did – well, I hope you like it as much as I did. B._

_PS: I just straightened out some typos. Sorry about that. If you find some more, please tell me._

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When they had climbed the stairs – still holding hands and stopping at every turn to kiss – and turned the corner to their apartments, the first thing they noticed was the light under the door and in the peephole of no. 19, telling them that Joey had returned. Monica's heart sank when she saw Chandler's scowl, but then he shrugged.

"Just a sec, let me check something …" and he opened the door to no. 19 and put his head in. For a moment he remained that way, listening intently, then he grinned and turned to Monica again.

"It's okay, they're in his room." He winked and Monica heaved a sigh of relief. "I'll just get my things."

"Won't they notice that you're not there?"

"Who, Joey? When he's in bed with a date? Nope." He took her by the shoulders and pecked a kiss on her cheek. She held him close and kissed him back, offering her mouth, thus lengthening the kiss considerably. When they drew apart again, both were breathing more heavily. Monica almost had to force herself away from him.

"Okay. I'm gonna take a shower. Would you like to join me?" She had meant to sound light and careless, but somehow it came out husky and constricted. She saw him gulp visibly and her breath caught.

"Mmmh … yeah, in a minute …" and with that he turned around and almost bolted into no. 19. Monica opened her door and turned on the light. When she hung up her coat she saw the blinking light on the answering machine that told her she had a message. She knew who it was even before she wound back the tape, and sure enough the message was from Ross. And her parents – that she hadn't foreseen.

"Monica? It's me, are you there? Monica … hello? No, Mom, she's not at home … no, I'm telling you, she's probably at work … okay ..." There were some diffuse sounds and then her mother came on the line. "Monica, why don't you pick up the phone? Monica? I hate talking to these things, you should know that …" Monica actually winced, then felt stupid and sighed. "Here, Jack, maybe you should try ..." And she heard her father protesting in the background and her brother arguing with them, then some other person intruded – probably someone waiting for their turns at the public telephones – and finally her brother came back on the line. "Actually we just wanted to tell you – yes, mom, I'm telling her, it's okay! – we're flying out tonight, and we'll arrive in New York at – what time will we arrive? What? No, that's can't be, it's too early – oh. Um. I guess, we'll arrive at 8 hours in the morning. Could you pick us up at the airport?" Monica rolled her eyes. "Yeah, see you then. Bye." "Bye Sweetie!" and then they hung up. Monica remained standing at the phone table and staring into space. She didn't notice Chandler coming in and gently closing the door, until he walked up and put his arms around her, making her start. He shushed her and kissed her neck, and she leaned against him gratefully. He had changed into his sleep things and brought a bottle of shower gel.

"Bad news?" he asked indicating the phone.

"In a way. Ross is coming home. And my parents. Their flight arrives at 8 in the morning and they want me to pick them up. Oh god, it'll take me hours to get there in the rush hour! Why do they need me there?"

"Shhsh. Then don't go."

"I can't do that."

"Yes, I know. Mmmmhh … um, em, about that shower?"

"Right, let's do it. What's that?"

"Just some soap, in case you've run out. I wanted to bring a towel too, but if I left that too, it might get noticed."

"You don't need to, I've got enough towels. They're much nicer than yours."

"Really? Not just the fancy ones? Yeah, you're right, I know."

Monica took off her shoes and they went into the bathroom, where she put Chandler's shower gel and her own plus her shampoo into the soap holder of the shower and turned on the water. Chandler had pulled his t-shirt over his head and stepped out of his pajama bottoms even before she got a chance to take off her clothes. He stood close to her and kissed and undressed her at the same time, her blouse first and then her pants, both of which he meekly laid across the chair at the washbasin after she'd silently dared him to leave them on the floor. She put her arms around him and waited patiently until he had figured out her bra, then put it on the chair too, while he squatted and drew down her panties. She held on to his shoulders while she stepped out of them and moaned when instead of getting up again he pressed his face against her mound and she felt first his hot breath and then his lips on her labia.

"Oh god … stop it … Chandler, no, the hot water'll run out …"

"Okay, okay …" and he did get up again, but rather slowly, and put in an extra stop at her breasts which he kissed and licked, one after the other. Monica's throat constricted and she felt herself getting wet.

When they finally got into the shower, the water was almost scalding and they had to adjust the temperature. Chandler took the shower head and rinsed her all over, holding it over her head so she could get her hair soaked thoroughly. Then in turn she directed the water at him, his chest, his belly and his legs, and when he turned around, his back and buttocks. He didn't need to wash his hair, since they had washed it at the hairdresser's, but she rinsed it anyway to get out the snips that were still lodged in it. Chandler turned around again and squeezed her shower gel into his hollow hands, then started to soap her all over, from her shoulders down her arms to her breasts and belly, letting his hands slide over her with languid circular movements that made her faint. When he put his arms around her and soaped her back and buttocks, it almost made her scream. While he got more soap, she started to shampoo her hair to distract herself. Instead of waiting for her, Chandler squatted and started to soap her legs, slowly and lovingly, sliding down on the outside and up on the inside, plus soaping and rinsing each foot with equal care. When he stood up again, he was breathing heavily and his penis was starting to swell and twitch. Wordlessly he put more soap in his hand and slid it, palm upwards, between her legs. Monica put one foot up on the rim of the bathtub and held on to his shoulders while he gently rubbed soap on her vulva and into her crack, sliding his fingertips along its length and teasing at her clit and entrance while she shuddered and trembled helplessly.

"Aaaahhh … aaahhhh … ooooohhh … ggoooooddd … don't stop …. Ah god … oh god, Chandler – aaahh … No, I can't …"

She felt herself tightening and stiffening as the desire built up, until she couldn't bear it any longer and drew back, pushing his hand away. He was breathing heavily and was now fully erect. She stared at him and swallowed heavily. Her clitoris was throbbing almost painfully and she felt weak in the knees.

"Your turn" she said hoarsely. He opened his mouth and shut it again, and wordlessly handed her his soap, stepping slightly away from the water. Her hands were shaking as she fumbled the unfamiliar opening (why were shower gel bottles for men always so complicated?) and squeezed the soap in her hand. She soaped his shoulders and chest first, working up a lather in his chest hair and catching his nipples lightly between her fingers, then pressed against him while she soaped his back and rubbed and slid her breasts against his chest at the same time. The way they slid and rubbed against his soapy slithery skin felt incredibly erotic and made them both gasp and moan. She put her foot up on the bathtub rim again to allow him to slide his slippery penis between her thighs just under her vulva and moaned loudly when it rubbed against her clit. He put his hands on each side of her, cupping her breasts and teasing the nipples with his thumbs while she slid her hands lower to the small of his back and his buttocks. When she rubbed soap into his crack he couldn't help twitching and he actually yelped when she slid her hand between his cheeks and thighs from behind and teased his testicles with her fingertips.

"Whoa … aww … haaahh … oh, that's enough …"

"I'm not finished …"

"Oh whoa … sweet Moses …"

She reloaded with soap and then attacked his lower belly, wriggling a fingertip in his navel and soaping the line of hair that went down from his chest over his stomach to his groin where it mingled with his pubic hair. Then she squatted and started on his legs and feet, soaping them down as he had with hers and leaving his groin area for last. Still squatting she got more soap and gently rubbed his penis between the palms of her hands, carefully teasing back the foreskin. It had begun to flag a little and now came to life again under her ministrations, twitching and throbbing. Chandler tried to keep her from soaping his testicles too, but she insisted. Then she couldn't resist and, with a mischievous grin, put the tip of his penis in her mouth and closed her lips around it, working her tongue slowly against its underside. Chandler stood stock still while she let it slide deeper and deeper into her mouth and just clenched his hands on her head and shoulders while she held on to his hips. For about half a minute he held still, then he started to tremble and pull back.

"Please, no, Monica … no, I can't take it … owww … No, stop it."

She wanted to go on, but then she noticed that the water was getting cooler and relented. Chandler pulled her up again and they pressed against each other and kissed deeply. They used the last of the warm water to rinse the rest of the soap on them and the remaining shampoo in Monica's hair, then shut off the water and scrambled out of the tub. The bathroom was so full of steam Monica had to open both the door and the window to let it out. They toweled each other and kissed again hungrily.

"Wow, Monica … that was incredible. Really. But you really didn't have to -"

"Shsh. I wanted to. You do so much for me, I want to do something for you to. Didn't you like it?"

"Of course I did. But …"

"What?"

"It just feels weird. I don't want to be the only one, I want to do something for you too."

"Okay … so how about some 69 stuff?"

He smiled blissfully. "Wow. Just the thing. You really want to do that?"

"Sure, why not? Just let me dry my hair."

"Wow." He took the towel and dried his feet and toes while she combed her hair out and started the blow dryer. When she looked at him again, he was just standing there, thinking.

"Have you done it before?" he asked and when she looked at him quizzically he added hastily: "I mean – I don't want to know with whom, just if you did –"

"Yeah. Actually twice. And you?"

"Well, once. But it didn't … well, it wasn't much good."

She smirked a little at that and smiled even wider when he blushed and pulled his t-shirt over his head to hide it. Oh my, how could he be so cute?

When her hair was reasonably dry, she got into her robe and straightened the shower curtain, then led the way out of the bathroom and to her bedroom. Chandler actually remembered to take his robe with him and he put it on the chair by the window while she removed the day throw from the bed. Then he came to her and they hugged and kissed deeply. Without taking his mouth from hers he loosened her robe and let it slide from her shoulders to the floor, then he stroked her bare back and buttocks and steered her urgently towards the bed. She helped him out of his t-shirt and pajama bottoms, then scooched backwards on the bed and turned on her side. He followed her and stretched out close to her and they cuddled and necked for a while.

"So how do you … I mean, do you want me on top or should we do it sideways –"

"I think it would be best if I was on top first. We can switch later."

"Okay." And he turned on his back resting his head against a pillow while she sat up and knelt over his head, then bent down until she was almost lying on his chest. He pressed his face between her legs and immediately pushed his tongue against her vulva and started licking it with short upwards strokes, while he supported her hips with his hands. It made her whimper and twitch helplessly on his chest, until she pulled herself together and stretched out, reaching for his legs. He drew up his knees and arched his back until her head came to just between his legs, and she grabbed his buttocks and took his penis into her mouth. It immediately hardened again and pressed against the roof of her mouth. Chandler's groan was muffled by her vulva and between his throbbing penis and the sensations from her clitoris she found it harder and harder to breathe. She pulled back and started to lick his penis from bottom to top, gently nipping at the tip with her teeth while he shook and pressed his legs together in his throes. When he slid first one and then two fingers inside her while continuing to lick her clit, she actually convulsed and screamed.

"Oooooohhh gggoooooddd, aaaahhhh, aaaahhh, oooohhh … ah, ah, Chandler, I … I … I can't … I .. please, I need …. Aaaaa, it's too much, sorry …"

He lifted his head away from her, panting loudly. "Right ... Me too … wait … no, just wait …hold on .." He scooched backwards until he could sit up behind her, then got on his knees and pulled her against him. She trembled and pressed her buttocks against his belly and then screamed and thrashed when he entered her almost roughly. At first he held her close to him, almost bent double over her back, then he straightened as his thrusts got harder and faster and held her by the hips. Monica climaxed first, screaming and clawing at the sheets, then sank down and pressed her face into the mattress. Chandler followed soon after and almost collapsed on her back. For a moment they remained hunched around each other, then they slowly disengaged and fell back, shaking and panting. Monica whimpered and reached for him blindly, and he pulled her to him until she came to lie on his chest, holding her tight and stroking her hair. Slowly they relaxed against each other and their panting stilled.

"Holy Moses … Monica, what was that?"

Her shoulders twitched as she giggled into his neck. "I truly don't know."

"Well, whatever it was, it was really awesome. We guess we should always take showers together from now on."

"Mercy! I don't think I could take that. Not without some more practice … I'm sorry we didn't get to finish with the 69 though."

"Aww. Don't be sorry, I think it was too much for me too."

"Really?"

"Yes. Definitely. Good thing we stopped, or I'd have blown a major blood vessel."

"Oh wow. We can't have that." She raised her head and looked at him. "But then that's the second time it didn't work for you."

"Oh, but it did. Believe me it did. From now on I want all my 69s like this."

She laughed and settled again on him, sighing contentedly.

"Me too."


	13. Chapter 13: Cute in Bubbles

_A/N So here it is, my version of TOW All the Kissing's opening scene. That's still one of my absolute favorites and I can only hope I did it justice. This chapter got a little longer than usual, because somehow it only seems to work with Chandler's POV - go figure. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, and will read on - I've now decided to take this to at least to TOW all the Kips and maybe - probably - further. We'll see._

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Chandler sneaked back into the apartment at 5.30 a.m. shortly after he and Monica had gotten up.

Monica wanted to leave for the airport at six latest, still fretting that she might not be there on time, and he knew better than to try and delay her. Not when she was still upset over oversleeping the day before, and meeting her parents later that day. As it turned out his timing couldn't have been better. Just 10 minutes after he had returned to his room and slumped on his bed, he heard the door of Joey's room open and someone tiptoeing to the bathroom. Joey's date of course, the majority of them were usually up long before his roommate, and often shared their breakfast with him instead of Joey. Which was fine because he liked company for breakfast and Joey wasn't exactly a morning person. It would have been awkward though, to say the least, if Tanya had caught him coming into the apartment in his bathrobe.

He heard her fumbling for the lightswitch, and then there came some squawking from the duck and a soft startled scream from her, so he decided to check and opened the upper part of his door. Tanya in one of Joey's t-shirts and nothing else stood just outside the bathroom door staring at the duck who stretched his neck and stared back, flapping his wings at her. When she heard his door open she jumped.

"Need some help?" he asked, pretending to have just woken up and trying not to stare at her too openly.

"Oh, um, hi, no, it's just, I don't know, I think the duck doesn't want me to use the bathroom –"

"I'll get him. He's just curious, but he shouldn't be there anyway." Chandler picked up the duck and petted him a little to calm him, then he put it in the chest in the corner between the couch and the wall. Tanya smiled gratefully at him and darted into the bathroom, only to put out her head again one second later.

"Um – the chick's in here too … Oh, thank you, you're a real life saver! I don't really mind them, but I hate it when they're in the bathroom while I – you know …"

"Yes I know, rather offputting, isn't it? There you go."

"Thank you. Sorry for waking you up."

"That's okay …" but she was already in the bathroom and locked the door. Chandler returned to his room, shut the two halves of his door and lay down on his bed again. He turned out the light and tried to relax, knowing that he wouldn't be able to sleep for some time yet. After a while he heard Tanya return to Joey's room and some scuffling noises and creaking of bedsprings which told him that Joey had rolled over her space in her absence and she had had to get him to roll back again. Then they settled again and for a while there were just the usual early morning noises of the apartments around them – toilets flushing, water pipes, some TVs and radios, and footsteps on the stair. Then just before six the door of no. 20 being opened and then shut and locked – Monica leaving for the airport. He listened for her steps down the hallway and the stairs until all was silent again. Then he shut his eyes and sighed.

Things kept getting weirder and weirder for them. Last night that hot session in the shower and in her bed had been overwhelming, to say the least, almost scary. Every time they had sex it kept getting hotter, more intense, more exhilarating than the last time. There seemed to be no end in sight to this and yet he had that persistent nagging fear niggling at him that it was too good to last, that something was bound to break the spell. When they were together, he felt the connection between them, the understanding that needed no words, but as soon as they were apart, the doubts and worries returned. How did she feel about him? Did she actually want more than sex from him? Was it just a physical relationship for her or had she developed feelings for him? Was she afraid that he had developed feelings and remained silent because she didn't want to hurt him?

True, there had been all those little signals. That romantic dinner especially. But she had said herself that it was 'too romantic for them' so that too could be interpreted both ways. And they had held hands on the way home, but that too was ambiguous, it could be that she just enjoyed the loving companionship. After all she had been alone a long time and they were still friends as well as lovers. They had held hands before and never thought about it. He really needed a clearer signal than that.

He could ask her of course, probably should do so soon, but he knew he couldn't bring himself to it. Not as long as he wasn't sure about his own feelings. Did HE want more than a physical relationship? Was he ready for something more serious? Was he?

Strangely enough, the two guys in his head had nothing to say to that and remained silent. Like they always would when he actually needed their input.

He decided that he would wait for a signal from her. Something that told him how she felt. Then he could decide. He hoped.

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He finished work early in the afternoon – Wednesdays almost always were a breeze – and decided to check in at Central Perk's before returning to his apartment. When he entered the place was pretty crowded and he almost changed his mind to a coffee to go, but then he spotted Joey and Phoebe in their usual place on the couch and the big chair, and they waved him over excitedly.

"Hey Chandler! Check it out, the triplets are kicking!"

"Actually, they're boxing. Ooooh, that one was mean. Hey, keep it clean! Not below the beltline, you hear me?"

"Was that little Chandler again?" Chandler deposited his briefcase and his coat on the backrest.

"Nah, he doesn't box, he just hits. I think this was Leslie. Joey, what are you doing?"

Joey had put his head against her bulge and seemed to be listening raptly.

"What's the score, my man?" Joey just shook his head.

"Can't tell, but boy, they're really going at it in there!" Chandler laughed and went to the bar to get coffee. Just when he was leaning against the counter waiting for Gunther who was busy with other customers, the door flew open and Monica came running in, out of breath and flushed with excitement. Chandler started and grinned goofily, then caught himself just in time. For one hot moment their eyes met and he actually felt something wrench deep inside him, a strange tightening. Then Gunther tipped him on the shoulder to get his attention and Monica rushed to the couch, and the moment was lost.

"Guys! Guess what! I've got the rest of the week off!" And she and Joey high-fived.

"Wow, Monica, that's great, what happened?"

"Oh my boss decided to have some Lebanese family thing at the restaurant and he's going to cook himself, so he doesn't need me. I just have to help him with the shopping tomorrow, then I'm free until Tuesday."

"Oh, that sounds great! I'm so happy for you!" Phoebe skipped up and down on her seat only to fall back and grimace when the triplets reminded her once again of their presence.

"So, what are you going to do with all your free time?" Chandler asked as he took his coffee from Gunther and then went to the couch to stand as close to Monica as he dared. She smiled brilliantly at him which caused another wrench in his guts.

"Oh, I don't know yet, but I'm sure something will come up." She grinned mischievously and he nearly choked on his coffee.

"Oh, Mon, is Ross back yet?" Joey asked.

"Yes, I picked him up this morning. He's in his apartment on the phone trying to locate Emily. So far no luck. They keep giving him phone numbers and when he calls them, they give him different numbers and so on. I don't think we'll see him for a while."

"Oh, that's too bad. I wanted to ask him about that beer."

"He'll probably be in tomorrow. Oh, I almost forgot, he wanted me to ask you if you could call Felicity."

"Who?"

"The bridesmaid!" the three of them chorused and Joey flinched.

"The one with the strawberries ..?" Chandler added helpfully.

"Oh yeah … but I really don't know if I have her number …"

"That's okay, Ross has it. He just wants you to call her, since she's Emily's friend and probably wouldn't want to help him."

"What makes you think I can …? Oh, alright." Joey sighed.

"Maybe he'll find Emily before you have to call her." Phoebe offered and Joey cheered up again. Chandler took a sip of his coffee and slowly moved a little closer to Monica, until he was standing next to her behind the couch and rested his free hand on the backrest. She casually put her hand next to his and extended her little finger until it lay on his, carefully avoiding to look at him. The small contact made him tingle all over again.

"Any news from Rachel?" Phoebe asked and Monica put her hand to her mouth.

"Oh yes, I completely forgot! She said there was a chance of getting a flight out today. She'd have to change flights twice in Athens and in Frankfurt, but if it worked out she'd be here tomorrow morning."

"Oh yay! Then we'll all be together again! That's so great! Good thing too, I don't want to be waiting for her when the triplets come out."

"You need all of us to be there when you give birth?" Chandler asked and Phoebe frowned.

"Of course I do! Especially you Chandler. You need to help me with little Chandler, because he's got your name. You're his name parent!"

Chandler looked baffled. "Name … parent?!"

"YES! You have to take him and hold him right after he's born, and then talk to him, maybe spank him a little for kicking the other two …"

Chandler actually stepped back and only then noticed Monica and Joey smirking and grinning at his discomfort and realized that he was being wound up. Phoebe giggled and then laughed outright.

"But if I'm the first thing he sees, he'll want to get right back in" he argued weakly and they laughed some more. Monica gathered up her bag again.

"Right, I have some more things to do. Phoebe, will you be by later?"

"No, Alice is leaving early tomorrow, so I have to be with them tonight."

"Joey?"

"Got a date tonight." Joey said smugly.

"Tanya? Again? Is this getting serious?"

"Na, not Tanya. Someone else. Her name's … um-"

"Her name is Um?! Oh that's pretty. Umm. UUUUMMMMM."

While Joey and Phoebe were bantering back and forth, Chandler caught one last meaningful glance from Monica before she turned around and left the café. He wanted nothing less but to rush after her, but was painfully aware how suspicious that would look, and he still had his coffee to finish too. So he forced himself to stay for another five minutes, fidgeting and only half listening to his friends' heated discussion of girl's names, and with great relief took his leave as soon as he dared.

Once outside the door he started walking faster and faster and almost ended up running until he arrived at no. 90, let himself in and rushed up the stairs taking two at a time. He left his coat and briefcase in no. 19 and eagerly entered no. 20, still out of breath.

"I'm in Rachel's room!" Monica called out, and sure enough, there she was, at Rachel's bed, taking the case off one of her pillows. When he came in and shut the door she turned and held out her arms and he wrapped his arms around her and pressed her close, swinging her around and kissing her hungrily. She responded eagerly and laughed breathlessly when they tottered and swayed in their urgency, and kissed some more. She opened her mouth wider and their tongues met and teased, and Chandler tried to pull her even closer. He slipped a hand under her t-shirt and rubbed her back, then pushed his fingers under the edge of her skirt and panties down to her buttocks. Monica panted and pressed against his hips and he realized that he had an enormous, almost painful erection, and tried to relieve the pressure by rubbing it against her belly. Monica held her head back for a moment and opened her eyes, and they stared at each other. Her pupils had dilated so much her eyes were almost black and her mouth hung half-open. Then she swallowed and pulled him urgently towards her, stepping backwards at the same time up to the edge of the bed.

"Come on … now … oh god … No, no time for that-"

"Mmmh … here? … Mmmmh …. Oh, god, Monica … mmmmh .."

They fell on the bed together. She didn't even let him get out of his jacket, just fumbled and clawed at his belt, squirming and thrashing. He couldn't figure out her skirt and just pushed it up, then tugged her panties down her thighs and over her knees. She hooked one leg around his waist, wrenched at his zipper, then grabbed his penis as soon as it came free and almost rammed it inside herself, moaning and shuddering. He held her against him and pushed it even deeper blindly, and then they went at it like animals, panting and screaming and almost delirious with lust and heat. Monica clenched her hands around his butt cheeks and he burrowed his hand in her hair while he kept the other at the small of her back. They couldn't get enough of each other and just went on and on. Monica stiffened and arched her back as she climaxed and then just shuddered and pushed on regardless. Chandler soon felt as if he was caught up in a neverending spiral of lust that he couldn't get out of and didn't want to. He kept on thrusting, occasionally shifting and changing the angle and then pressing on. His tie kept tangling up between their faces and his jacket was rucked upward over his shoulders.

After what seemed like hours Monica climaxed for the third time and he actually saw her eyes roll back in their sockets until only the white showed. She screamed and bore up hard and then he felt her tightening all around him until he felt like he was stuck inside her and could only spasm and twitch while his orgasm finally built up. The release felt incredibly good. He collapsed on her with his face buried in her shoulder, gasping and panting, while she held him and rocked him soothingly. For a while neither of them moved, and then just raised their heads a bit to kiss a little more and brush their lips over each other's faces and necks.

"I needed that …" she whispered finally. "So badly …"

"Me too."

"Oh god, this is so crazy, it was all I could think of-"

"I know –"

Suddenly there was a noise somewhere and they froze, listening breathlessly. Someone had knocked on the apartment door. He saw Monica's eyes widen and her mouth open for a scream and his heart sped up until he could feel it hammering in his ears. This couldn't be happening, not like this …

"Monica? Are you there?" It was Ross and his voice broke the spell. Monica heaved violently under him and he scrambled frantically off her while she pushed herself up and got off the bed. Ross opened the apartment door and they stared wild-eyed at each other while they heard his footsteps approach.

"Coming, Ross! Just a moment!" Monica shook out her hair and pulled up her panties in the same movement, then rushed to the door and opened it for just a crack. Chandler desperately tore up his pants, stuffing his shirt in anyhow and mercifully just avoided snagging the zipper. He was aware of how rumpled and mussed he must be looking, and fervently hoped that Ross wouldn't notice.

"Hey, what's up bro?"

Ross was standing by the couch and now came over, frowning bewildered. "What are you doing in Rachel's room?"

Chandler saw her rolling her eyes. "What do you think? Phoebe slept in here and how I'm making up her bed." She opened the door a little wider so Ross could see him too and Chandler hastily put on what he hoped was a neutral expression and put his hands in his pockets, trying to look as normal and unconcerned as possible. "Chandler helped me flip the mattress."

"Yeah, it's really hard work" he quipped for good measure and felt incredibly relieved when Ross's frown vanished as soon as it had appeared.

"Ah, okay. Hi Chandler. Everything okay?"

"Yup, couldn't be better. Just fine. Breeeezy –" Monica looked at him warningly and he caught himself just in time "Really good. And you? Still couldn't find Emily? Bummer."

Ross's face fell. "No. Mon, listen, can I use your phone?"

"To phone Emily's folks? What's wrong with yours?"

"Nothing, it's just, they know my number by now and won't answer my calls anymore. I thought if I phoned from here-"

"They'll still see that it's a New York number."

Ross grimaced. "But it's worth a shot, come on." Without waiting for her answer he went over to the endtable at the couch and picked up the phone. Monica sighed.

"Will you at least refund me - ?" Ross waved her off impatiently, already dialing a number he had written down in his notebook. Chandler looked at Monica and shook his head at the apartment door.

"My place?" he whispered. Her face lit up and she nodded.

"Hello? Hello?! Hi, it's me again, I just – NO DON'T HANG UP-"

They stole out of the apartment with Ross screaming and pleading at the phone, and went into no. 19. Chandler shut the door and then clasped Monica in his arms, snuffling in her hair and sighing.

"Oooohh, man, that was close ..."

She giggled and kissed him, then stepped back and looked around her.

"So what do we do now? Wait here?"

"Well, why not? We've got the whole evening. Joey won't be back till late."

"You're sure? What if Ross comes over?"

"We can hang in my room, he won't barge in there. I hope."

They went to his room and he held both halves of the door open for her. Monica just shook her head at it and rolled her eyes.

"When are you going to get that fixed?"

He shrugged sheepishly. "I know. Everytime I see Treeger, I forget." She put her head to the side quizzically. "Well, not forget – okay, I'm afraid to ask him."

"Can't Joey fix it?"

"Yeah, well, he keeps cancelling on me. Look, why didn't you fix it, when you lived here?" As soon as he had said it he was mentally kicking himself for bringing it up and reminding Monica of the infamous apartment-switch.

"Me? It's not my door! I didn't plan on staying here, I hated it!"

"Okay, okay, shhh. I'm sorry, I brought it up. You're right, I should get it fixed. Will get it fixed, I promise."

Somewhat mollified Monica looked around the room and Chandler winced every time her gaze locked on something she didn't approve of until he almost wished they had remained with Ross.

"What's that? Your traveling bag? Oh my god, you still didn't unpack?!"

"Yeah, well, I – there was no time –" he wilted under her gaze "Okay, I hate unpacking."

"Then let's do it now, come on!"

"Oh no … please, no – NO! Monica, wait ..." But she ignored him and just upended his bag over the bed, already sorting through his stuff while he was still protesting.

"Mon, please .."

"Ah, there they are, I really missed them at our laundry date!" And she triumphantly held up his blue cowboy pajamas. "I've been meaning to ask you about them, where did you get them?"

"I don't remember. Okay, they're from my mom. Look, Mon ..."

"Your mom?!"

Chandler breathed out and spread his hands exasperatedly. "Yes, my mom! Monica, stop it. Please. What's the matter with you? We just … I don't get it, 5 minutes ago we were going at it like, like rabbits, and now –"

Her face fell and she turned away, shoulders slumped. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Aww, don't be." He put his arms around her and kissed her on the head. "I'm a bit rattled too, what with Ross almost catching us …" She smiled at that and pressed her face against his shoulder.

"Yeah, that really threw me. It would be so awful if Ross ever caught us. I think I'd kill myself."

"No, don't, please, then he'd kill me and we'd both be dead." She laughed at that.

"Anyway, I'm sorry for taking it out on you. It's just, when I see something that messy and I'm in that mood, I just need to … you know … deal with it, act on it …" she took a deep breath "I think I really really need to – clean."

Chandler raised his eyebrows suggestively. "Clean? How about we just take a shower?"

She laughed and shook her head. "I'd need to clean your bathroom first. Actually, there's an idea ..!"

Her face brightened and Chandler groaned. "Really?"

"Yes! Come on, we'll do it together, it'll be fun! And afterwards …" she snuggled closer and playfully tugged at his tie "… we could take a bath. In your tub. A bubble bath … with some candles … do you have some wine?"

He opened his mouth to protest, got caught in the expectant gaze of her brilliant blue eyes and shut it again, nodding helplessly. "Alright. A bath. You and me naked – yeah, sounds good. Great in fact. Yeah, let's."

Her face lit up and she pulled his head down to kiss him. "Okay! I'll just get my stuff. You can put your things in the laundry bag and we'll wash them later. Be right back – oh, before I forget, do you have candles?"

"Yup, but better bring some more. And we have no bubble bath. But we have wine – no glasses though."

"Candles, glasses, bubble bath … got it!" And with that she was out the door.

.

Later – a long time later actually, when it came to cleaning Monica was pretty much indefatigable – they were indeed sitting facing each other in the hot steamy bubble bath, legs intertwined, smiling at each other blissfully and clinking their glasses every time they sipped. Chandler felt wonderfully relaxed and at peace with the world again. The past two hours had been rather tiring, but it had been so worth it – the bathroom was squeaky clean again, the tiles and the tub shone and the mirror sparkled. They had distributed nearly a dozen candles around the room, on the rim of the tub and the window sill and their soft light shone on Monica's wet skin and in her sparkling eyes as she leaned closer to him and smiled happily.

"You look cute in bubbles" she murmured and grinned widely. He knew she hadn't had more than a glass yet, but she almost seemed tipsy. Maybe it had been all the cleaning.

"Eh, you're all liquored up." He replied grinning and they moved their heads together for a kiss – only to be interrupted by loud noises in the living room. They stared at each other in shock as the awful truth sank in. Joey. Joey had come back, and they were screwed. There was nothing they could do - and now he was already rapping on the door.

"Hey, it's me! I'm comin' in!"

Chandler's mind was in a whirl as he tried frantically to find an explanation, a distraction, anything – and then watched dumbfounded as Monica took a deep breath, held her nose and dove neatly under the water, still holding her glass. He caught at himself and distributed the bubbles more evenly across her end. Joey pushed the door open and raised his brows at the candles and the bubbles. Chandler tried to adopt as weary an expression as he could.

"I've had a very long, hard day …" he said apologetically. Joey nodded agreeably, but continued to look around the bathroom. Chandler was fiercely glad that Monica had left her clothes in his bedroom and then worried that Joey would notice that the bathroom was noticeably cleaner now.

"You're home early!"

"Yeah, my date threw up." Joey replied dismissively. "Ah, I'm gonna get some chicken. Want some?"

Chandler started to sweat. How long would Monica be able to hold her breath? "Ah, no thanks, no chicken, bye-bye then." And, oh god, there was the rim of her glass just visible in all the foam.

"Okay." Joey turned to leave and Chandler began to breathe again, but then his roommate turned around once more.

"You're sure? Some extra crispy? Dirty rice? Beans?"

"For the last time, no! Get out!" Chandler started to panic, seeing Monica already drowning in his mind. "Get out Joe!"

"All right!" Joey shook his head at his outburst and then, thank god and all the angels, he did leave. Chandler heaved a sigh of relief as Monica's head popped up and she drew in air loudly.

"Are you okay? I'm so sorry, he wouldn't leave, he kept asking if I wanted chicken!"

"Chicken?" To his surprise she seemed quite unperturbed. "I could eat some chicken."

Ooookaaay … He shrugged and waited until she had filled her lungs again. "Hey Joe!" In perfect timing Monica went under again, just as Joey popped back through the door.

"Yeah, can I get a 3-piece, some coleslaw, some beans … and a coke – Ah, ah! –" he yelped as Monica pinched his leg underwater and almost panicked, until it clicked and he remembered "- Diet Coke!"

Joey gave him a thumbs-up and left, and Chandler leaned back exhausted as Monica re-emerged and sat up again, checking her glass for soapbubbles.

A long hard day indeed.


	14. Chapter 14 Cuddle and Spoon

_A/N Dear Katelyn, thank you again for your nice reviews. I really appreciate it! And all you other guys out there reading and - hopefully - enjoying it, the traffic stats tell me you're there, so thanks for reading. That's all I ask. _

_._

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What else would have to happen before they learned to be more careful?! Within two days they had been almost caught by Phoebe and Ross and now Joey, whom she could now hear phoning his order to the Chicken Take-Away place. She had thought he would get it himself, not have it delivered, and thus the next problem arose: how in the world could she get out of the bathroom and the apartment with Joey there? It nearly killed her appetite again.

Chandler got out of the tub and silently held out a big towel to her, and she took it and, climbing out of the tub, wrapped it around her. He took one for himself and, putting a finger on his lips, went to the door, listening and toweling himself dry. When she joined him at the door, he put his mouth to her ear.

"Don't worry, he always goes to his room after he ordered food. He won't be out until after it's delivered. Just wait."

Sure enough, right after finishing the phone call, Joey started to whistle and they heard the door to his room open. Then the duck started squawking and fluttering, as he escaped into the living room and the door shut again. Chandler grinned at her and went to the tub to pull the plug. She considered blow-drying her hair and decided against it, just put a smaller towel around her head and snatched up a comb. Chandler hastily put on his t-shirt, boxers and bathrobe, and then opened the door, checked and gave her a thumbs-up sign. As silently as she could she darted into Chandler's room, where the door mercifully stood open, and sat down on the bed. Chandler closed the bathroom door audibly and followed her more slowly, whistling while he went. He shut both halves of the door carefully and joined her on the bed, grinning complacently. She immediately felt exasperated again. There weren't out of the woods yet, why was he so smug? When she glared at him his smile died away again.

'What now?' she mouthed at him, pointing to the door. He just nodded, serious now and put his mouth to her ear again.

"We wait …" he whispered. "When the food's delivered, you leave when I open the door. Then you can come back, or I'll bring it to you."

"And Joey?" she whispered back.

"He'll stay in his room. He doesn't want to pay for the food, see. But you have to be really quick."

"Oh really!" that came out almost too loud and she bit her lip. Then she sighed and started toweling her hair dry. It felt as if there was still soap in it, but she could rinse it again later. She took up her bra and glared at Chandler who was staring at her intensely, and he actually blushed and cut an apologetic smile. He didn't avert his eyes though. She sighed again and loosened the towel, took up her bra and put it on while he watched her silently. Next came her t-shirt, and then she got into her panties still sitting on the bed, and with Chandler still watching her. When she took up her skirt and scooched into it, he put a hand on her back and leaned in for a kiss. She held still, but was too wound up to respond and just leaned silently against him.

When the doorbuzzer went, they both jumped. Chandler signaled her to stay put and opened the door.

"I'll get it!" he called out and went into the kitchen to answer the buzzer. There was a muffled reply and nothing else from Joey's room. Monica waited a few seconds just to make sure and then darted to the kitchen, sandals in her hand, and ducked behind the counter. They waited breathlessly for the delivery guy to trudge up the stairs, Monica wishing fervently that their apartments weren't so high up. Finally they heard the footsteps approach and then came a heavy knock on the door. Chandler opened it so quickly that the guy jumped back with surprise, and he almost dropped the chicken bucket when Monica shot through the door. Thankfully it wasn't someone she had seen before. Monica hastily put on her sandals and entered her apartment, trying furiously to think of an explanation of her wet hair for Ross. But there was no need. Her brother was sitting slumped back on her couch, the phone still in his hand, fast asleep. She went into the bathroom to quickly brush her still wet hair and tie it into a ponytail, then opened the door again. Chandler was just handing the money to the delivery guy who pocketed it, shot her a puzzled glance and left.

"Hi Chandler" she said loudly for Joey's benefit. "Oh, what's this, chicken?"

"Yup. Want some? There's lots."

"Yeah, I could eat some chicken, thanks!" It sounded a little phony to her, but she didn't care anymore. Chandler held the door open for her and followed her to the living room where Joey was already in his chair watching TV and happily eating his portion directly out of the bag. He waved and grinned at her still munching. Someone had opened the door to the bathroom again and there was still some steam billowing out the window. Some of the candles were still burning and she thought it more prudent to comment on them.

"Ooohh, candlelight bath! Nice!"

Behind her Joey snorted. "Yeah, you should have seen it. Chandler in the bubble bath with candles. And wine! Soooo romantic!"

"And? Did it help?" she asked innocently, hoping that Chandler would understand her drift.

"Hel – oh, yes, I feel so relaxed now. Thanks for lending me the candles."

"You need to rinse the tub though or the soap will dry" she said sternly and exhaled exasperatedly when Chandler just rolled his eyes.

"The candles are from you?" Joey asked and she turned around to face him.

"Yes, I always light candles when I take a bath. It's so nice. You should try it too."

Joey grimaced. "No. I'd feel weird taking a bath all alone. That's not romantic."

"But more relaxing" said Monica and smiled at Chandler who offered her the chicken pieces on a plate. For a short hot moment their eyes met.

"Yeah, if I had a girl with me in the bath, I wouldn't be able to relax. You'd never know what would happen next."

Joey just snorted and shook his head.

.

.

A short time later Ross joined them, still sleepy and with disheveled hair and slumped on the couch dejectedly. Joey and Chandler between them managed to cheer him up a little and when Monica rose to leave, he had recovered enough to watch TV with Joey and finish a bag of chips with him.

"I'll give you a hand with the candles" Chandler offered and they collected the candles and the bubble bath bottle from the bathroom, where she made him rinse the tub before they went to Monica's apartment. They put the candles on the kitchen table and then grabbed at each other and hugged and kissed passionately. She had meant to send him back right away, but somehow couldn't let him go and instead found herself clinging to him and fumbling at his robe, wrapping her arms around his waist and sliding her hands under his t-shirt. He pushed her towards the table and got her to sit on it, then held her against him while she wrapped her legs around his hips and slid her hands down his back under his boxers to stroke and squeeze his buttocks. He started a little at that and grinned into their kiss, then teased at her lips and teeth with his tongue, and they both moaned when their tongues met. In no time at all she felt herself getting soft and wet and aching with desire for him, and judging by the way his body responded he felt the same. She knew they had no time for this and couldn't afford to get Ross and Joey suspicious, but simply couldn't care. Neither could he apparently, when she leaned back pulling him down with her, he pushed up her skirt and tugged her panties down her legs. She kicked them off and frantically pushed down his boxers at the same time. When he entered her she pressed her face against his shoulder to stifle her scream and then just clung to him, shaking and moaning, while he thrust into her urgently. Her breath hitched and caught and she couldn't stop shuddering. Chandler kept kissing her on her neck and face, and only when he paused suddenly to look at her she realized that tears were running down her cheeks.

"Mon … you're crying! Is something wrong?"

"No … no … It's nothing. Nothing's wrong." She pressed her face against his t-shirt again, drying her tears on it. "Don't stop ... please … oh god …"

He wrapped his arms around her again and they rocked a little too and fro while she snuffled and hitched and finally drew up her nose. Her desire had diminished as fast as it had come and the aching need receded, but she still enjoyed the feel of him inside her, his body pressed so close against hers, and his breath and his lips on her face and mouth. After a while she felt him tense a little as he climaxed – very gently this time, almost restrained – and then relax again. She took a deep breath and released her hold on him as he slid out of her and stepped back a little, still looking at her worriedly while he pulled up his boxers.

"Are you really okay, Mon?"

She rubbed her arm across her eyes. "Yeah, I'm okay. Don't worry about it. I always get a little funny before –" She stopped and bit her lip. Chandler suddenly looked relieved.

"Oh. Is it – bad for you? Does it hurt?"

"What? No." She got off the table and hunted for a tissue to blow her nose. "I'm just – I don't know, nervous. Strained. It's not my period, that's not due for days yet."

"PMS then?" he asked gently and she stared at him. "What?"

"Well, you know, premenstrual syn-"

"I know what PMS is!" She snapped and regretted it at once when he looked hurt. "Yeah, I guess. Listen, I really don't want to talk about it …"

"That's okay." He took hold of her again and kissed her softly. "Listen, I need to get back to the guys."

"I know."

"Do you still want me to come by – later?"

She smiled. "Of course I do. It's our last night without Rachel, remember?"

"Oh god, you're right. I'll come over as soon as I can."

"Okay. I might be in bed already, but just come in." She went with him to the door and they kissed again before he left. She shut the door behind him and just leaned against it with her eyes closed. And remained like that trying to sort out her emotions that seemed to hurl at her from all directions at once. And to calm down, still her wildly beating heart.

So what had that been all about? Was it really just PMS? Usually the symptoms were more of a physical nature, like backpains and cramps, but never really bad. She could not remember ever experiencing mood swings like that, getting this emotionally upset. But then she never had had so much sex in such a short time either. It must have set a whole bunch of hormones loose that wreaked havoc in her body. And after that long dry spell too. No wonder really. And no reason to worry about it.

Except she was still worried. What if it got worse before it got better? Would Chandler still be able to accept it? What if he actually lost interest? She knew, rationally knew in her mind that that wouldn't happen, but couldn't quite get her anxiety under control.

At last she drew a deep breath and forced herself to consider the worst case scenario. Alright. Fine. If that was so, if it actually turned out to be true that he would lose interest eventually, then she would just have to cut her losses. Nothing gained, but nothing really lost. They would stop and that would be all that there was to it. A week of passion, some nice memories, some new experiences. It would be over and they would move on. Maybe remain friends, maybe not. But no big deal anyway. And no reason to get upset really. It wasn't like she was in love with him.

Yet. She was almost sure of that. Of course she cared about him, but she had cared about him before. He was her friend after all.

She sensed that her thoughts were turning full circle again and told herself to snap out of it. So what now? Take a shower? A part of her protested, wanted to keep the smell, the feel of him on her skin, inside her, still a little longer, while another part was almost disgusted at the very idea. She decided on a compromise: finish making up Rachel's bed, maybe put in some ironing too, and then take a shower. And then go to bed. And wait for him, maybe put on that sexy nightie, or even better … nothing at all.

.

When Chandler finally came, she was in bed and had already fallen asleep, lying on her side with her back to the nightlamp she had left on. She was dreaming some confused and intricate dream where she had to prepare for some test and try to find a place to hide from some guards that wouldn't let her enter the school where the test was to be held, and woke with a start when he slid under the covers behind her. Then they both gasped with surprise at the same time, because he felt so cool against her hot skin, and he when he put his arms around her and discovered that she was naked. She turned around and reached out blindly for him, and they kissed deeply. He had put out the light and the room was very dark.

"Mmmh … what time is it?"

"Dunno. After midnight. I'm sorry it got so late – your brother just wouldn't leave. He actually wanted to spend the night on the couch."

She laughed. "Oh god. How did you get rid of him?"

"I just told him the duck had vomited on it this morning."

"Ugh. Yeah, that would do it."

They kissed some more and he pulled her closer and slowly slid his hand down her side over her hip and then her upper thigh. She held on to him and just let him caress her without responding to it, enjoying the sensation of his hand on her skin as it went up again over her back to her shoulders and upper arms and down again over her ribs. When he reached the sideswell of her breast she shivered.

"Hmmm?"

"No … just sensitive … it's okay."

He shifted a little at that. "Really? Because … well, Mon, we don't have to … you know, if you don't want to."

"Um. Do you want to?"

He brushed his lips against her mouth and she felt him smile. "I always do, you know that. But it's okay. We had so much sex today … Actually, I hate to admit it, but I do feel a little sore."

She laughed breathlessly. "Really? Guys can get sore?"

"Well, not usually, but the way we've been going at it …"

"Wow. But yeah, me too. A lot actually."

He let his lips wander down her chin and to her neck. "No problem. Cuddle and spoon?"

"What?"

"As opposed to hug-and-roll?"

"Oh god, not that please. But cuddle and spoon … that sounds nice."

"Yeah. Has a nice ring to it actually."

"Hmmm. Should I put something on for it?"

"Oh no. Actually, you're fine. It's me who needs to get naked."

"Oh? Do you?"

"Yes, I'm afraid I do."

"Need some help?"

"Nope …" and he had indeed wriggled out of his boxers and t-shirt in no time. She turned on her other side and sighed with pleasure when he settled against her and her head came to rest on his arm. She felt his breath on her hair and his chest hair tickling her back slightly. His erection nudged against her buttocks but without any urgency. They entwined their legs so their feet rubbed against each other and he put his other arm around her and gently cupped her breast, hardly touching it. He sighed and kissed her shoulder lightly, and she closed her eyes and almost immediately fell asleep.


	15. Chapter 15 Kiss the Girls

_A/N I admit, this was a bit tricky to write, plus I'm a bit pressed for time right now, but I hope you like it regardless, even though I shortened the breakfast scene somewhat. If you don't, I might give it another try later._

_As always, thank you Katelyn, Mondlerstwangel and you too Judy, for your nice reviews, I really appreciate them. And I'd also like to talk to you a little more, however this really isn't the right place for it. Maybe you have another idea?!_

_._

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Chandler woke up early, feeling utterly and completely content. There were still about 20 minutes to go before the alarm went off, which Monica had set fairly early since she hadn't known when Rachel would arrive and wanted to run no risks. The room was still quite dark, with only a bit of fuzzy grey dawnlight coming in through the window. In his sleep he had turned away from her and now realized two things. One that they were still spooning, but now reversed, with Monica lying close behind him against his back, one arm under his head and the other over his waist. He could feel her breasts press gently against his back every time she breathed in, and her knees touching his thighs. And the second thing was that her arm was lying across his waist in the hollow between his ribs and his hip and she was holding his still flaccid penis in her hand, gently fondling it. He lay quite still, hardly daring to breathe, pretending to be still asleep though he knew she wouldn't be fooled. Monica proceeded to play a little with his penis, the tip of her thumb gently stroking its upper side while she gathered it together in the hollow of her hand and tried to curl it around one finger. The tip of her index finger probed at his foreskin while her little finger tickled its base from below. Chandler had to force himself to remain still and not grab her hand. His penis of course had its own idea about the game and slowly responded to her touch, at first only slightly thickening and faintly twitching, almost reluctant and in no hurry whatsoever, then when Monica continued to caress it, it stiffened suddenly and in a rush became fully erect. Her breath tickling on his shoulder told him that she was laughing, and he finally turned around to face her.

"And a good morning to you too. Now look what you've done!"

"Ooooh! Poor, poor Chandler! I'm sooo – not sorry!"

She grinned mischievously and hooked a leg over his hip. He pulled her a little closer until the tip of his penis just touched her labia and left it at that, just teasing and nudging. For a while they remained like that, lazily playing and kissing. She took hold of his penis again and gently held it in place while he nudged at her entrance with the tip, then she shifted a little and got closer still, allowing him to slide inside her a little more, still slowly, almost dreamily. He thought he could feel her pulse in the slippery hotness of her vagina against his penis, or maybe it was his own. Her other arm was wrapped around his shoulders and she tickled his back and shoulderblades with her fingertips, while they kissed more deeply with their tongues touching and caressing. He felt no urge at all to push deeper into her and sensed no desire from her either, just the heat of their closeness and the tenderness of their caresses, her warm breath on his face. He wished he could remain like that forever. Or at least go to sleep again with her joined to him and float away on a dream –

And then the alarm went off. Monica's eyes flew open abruptly and he felt her tensing and sighed. It had just been too good to be true anyway.

"I've got it" she whispered and then she actually managed to prop herself up without separating from him, and before he realized it he was on his back with her straddling him and reaching over to shut off the alarm. For a moment she remained still as if thinking and he slid his hands up her thighs to her hips and over to her buttocks, then she sighed and climbed off him again.

"Sorry, but we can't … we can't really start this now, much as I want to, there's no time …"

"Why not? Come on, it's still early …"

She smiled at him sadly and shook her head. "Better not sweetie. But it's just a raincheck. We'll do this later. When you come back from work. Or tonight."

"But Rachel's going to be here" he protested weakly.

"Then I'll sneak over to your room. Come on, up you get, Mr. Big."

Chandler heaved himself up on his elbows and then froze, staring at her.

"What?!"

Monica grinned again and coyly avoided his eyes. "Well what?"

"You just called me - oh my god. Wow."

"What? It's no big deal! Just a nickname, you know, like the guy in –"

"I know, but don't spoil it. Please!" He grinned widely and swung his legs off the bed. "You just made my day!"

Monica laughed and pulled his head down to kiss him. "You're so cute! If I'd known that it made you this happy I would have told you before."

He smiled and kissed her back, then gathered up his clothes and collected his bathrobe. "Alright, see you at breakfast. Later!" And he went off, humming under his breath, and even breaking into a little happy dance at the door. He could hear her still laughing softly as he closed the door behind him.

His elation continued all through the morning as he sneaked back into no. 19, and stole to his bedroom where he lay on his bed for another half hour, too exhilarated to sleep. The night before he had been worried about Monica when she had started to cry during their stunt on the kitchen table, but then spending the night with her cuddling and spooning and just – playing? Smooching? Loving? He had no accurate word for it - had just been so, so sweet. And now – it was such a silly thing to get excited about, but he just couldn't help it, he was just thrilled.

At last he got up, chose a suit, shirt and tie to wear at work and went to the bathroom to shower and shave. It seemed to him that nothing could bring him down from his new high, not the fact that he had to clean up after the birds again, or that it took Joey ages to at least stumble to the bathroom still half asleep or that the paper was late again. At last they went over to no. 20 where Monica was getting breakfast ready for all of them, and when he sat down beside her and poured coffee he still felt so happy he wanted to dance on the table. Instead he stole a kiss when Joey had his back to them searching for cereals in the cupboard, and endured her admonishing kick at his shin after. The three of them chatted and bantered like they always did at breakfast. Monica had found a message from Rachel on her answering machine which she hadn't heard because Ross had accidentally muted the phone before leaving the last night. She had been about to board a flight from Athens which was scheduled to arrive at 7 a.m., but would probably be late. This was followed by some lengthy argument with the guy who had loaned her his mobile phone so she could make the call and only just had realized she was calling New York and not someone locally.

Then Phoebe arrived, looking fresh and summery in her red dress inspite of her huge belly, and the story she started to tell them about a cabdriver set them off again on London reminiscences and they couldn't stop laughing and high-fiving, except Phoebe, who retreated to the sofa silently and pouting. When Ross arrived with his usual long face, he too cheered up quite a bit when Joey high-fived him, and even remembered where Joey could get some more Bodington's, at which Joey promptly left. Ross of course asked after Rachel and then got upset about Emily's scene at the airport again, substituting her name for Rachel's once more and despairing.

"So you still haven't heard from Emily?" Phoebe asked solicitously from the couch and Ross slumped.

"No not since I lost her at the airport."

"I can't believe she can outrun you man!" Chandler remarked. He hadn't meant to scoff like that, had in truth not thought about it at all and just let his mouth run away with him as usual. Because he was so happy, and because that was what he nearly always did. And almost upset his plate with shock when Ross fairly jumped at his throat.

"HEY, SHE'S FAST! OKAY! Oh! You-you think **you** can be beat me? Let's go! Outside!" Chandler backed away, staring, and was even more scared when Ross cooled again in an instant.

"I'm sorry, I'm just a little …"

Monica couldn't resist. "… slow?" Chandler couldn't help laughing at that, she just looked too cute as she coolly confronted her brother. And Ross erupted again. Of course.

"Oh, you want some? Okay, get the shoes on! Let's go man!"

Monica just stared back at him unperturbed and Chandler felt a rush of admiration for her.

"It's cool, okay? You're the fastest!"

Then Rachel entered, breaking the tension, as if she had just waited for her cue behind the door. She looked happy and lighthearted in a sleeveless white blouse and a cute little braid in her hair, for all the world as if she just returned from a walk on the beach instead of a 10 hour flight. She greeted everyone breezily and waved away Ross's awkward apologies. Chandler noted Monica relax visibly at that and felt quite relieved himself.

"Terrible? Hell, I was in Greece! That was a nice hotel! Nice beach, met the nice people." Chandler remembered her mentioning the hotel manager's son during her phone call with Monica and shared a grin with her.

"Not too shabby for Rachel!"

As she reassured Ross and let him hug her, Chandler stole a look at Monica again and found her smiling at him. She turned away again, but gently touched his shin with the tip of her foot, and he felt a thrill coursing through him. Then Ross was happily expounding on his latest plan to get Emily back by sending her a whole load of roses and he once again couldn't resist.

"Oh, Ross, when you make out card; be sure to make it out to, EM-I-LY."

For a second he thought Ross would jump at his throat and mentally kicked himself, but Ross merely banged his arms together at him and left. Chandler relaxed again, rather satisfied with himself and watched amused as Rachel made a complete turnaround as soon as Ross was safely out of earshot. He hadn't bought her breezy cheerful act at all and felt even more content as she rambled on about her jinxed love life and bad decisions. All the while Monica kept rubbing his leg with her foot which elated him even more. They shared a look as Rachel counted off her failures and Chandler simply loved this new feeling of total understanding between them. It felt so … natural somehow.

Rachel then decided to let Monica be in charge of her love life which seemed to give Monica a real kick, plus it made her eyes sparkle with fresh energy. Chandler gazed at her lovingly and then noticed to his dismay that it had gotten quite late.

"Okay, I gotta get to work …" and because he still felt so elated and happy it felt totally natural to kiss Monica lovingly goodbye. Only when she stiffened and stared at him in shock he realized his mistake and froze. Rachel and Phoebe were staring at him dumbfounded and Monica had gone quite pale.

Oh dear god, now he'd done it.

What to do, what to do … Just when he was about to despair, guy # 1 threw in a halfjoking suggestion and he snapped it up. There was literally nothing else he could do.

So he put on a big grin and spread his arms wide.

"Rache! Glad to have you back!" And took her head in his hands and kissed her enthusiastically. Leaving her staring he then went over to Phoebe and repeated the manoeuver successfully, counting himself lucky not to get slapped.

"Always a pleasure!" and with this he strode determinedly out of the door.

Once out of the room and safely on the staircase however he stopped to bang his head at the wall repeatedly.

Oh god, how stupid could he get?

Monica would kill him. And he couldn't even blame her.


	16. Chapter 16: Office Meeting

_A/N I'm sorry updating took so long this time, I'm rather busy at the moment, plus I had some trouble with the timeline of this episode. If it confuses you that Chandler's second round of kissing didn't happen in the evening following the breakfast, but the day after, I'm sorry. You'd really think it was the same day, but in the first Central Park scene and the second kissing scene they're all in different clothes, so it just doesn't work. One of them changing their clothes I could explain, but all of them? So I squeezed in another day/evening, and I hope you like it._

_Katelyn, thank you again (of course, you too Judy :-), I really love how detailed your reviews always are, that's so helpful and encouraging. But while I'm okay with communicating with you only via my A/N and your reviews, the other readers might not be, __ especially since you have so many questions that I'd really like to answer in more detail. Is there any reason for you not to open an account? It doesn't obligate you to write you know. Just saying :-)  
><em>

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Monica first impulse was to jump up, exclaim in surprise, act all excited and maybe outraged, and she realized just in time that this would only direct the attention to her and actually might make matters worse instead of better. So she remained in her seat, her expression carefully blank with a hint of mild surprise, watching the others closely while her mind was racing.

Whatwhatwhat in the world had gotten into him? What had he been thinking? Had he even been thinking? And now even more important and to the point, how could she get out of this without making Rachel and Phoebe suspicious?

Well, it didn't look too bad. Phoebe was actually smirking, she seemed more amused than surprised. Rachel looked puzzled and faintly annoyed, but – thank god – not in the least suspicious. Yet.

"What got into him?" she asked now, sounding honestly mystified. "Has saying goodbye changed around here while I was away? Should we all kiss now when we leave?"

"No, god no! And no, we haven't, this is new. I don't understand it anymore than you do." Monica tried her utmost to sound mystified and a little irritated.

"There's nothing to understand" said Phoebe, still smirking in a selfsatisfied way. "It's Chandler. He's weird. Probably just wants attention. Such a loser!"

"He's not – " Monica began hotly, then saw Rachel agreeing and just caught herself. Why was she defending him? "Yeah, he is. Totally weird."

"Maybe it's something that happened to him in London?" Rachel asked and Phoebe grimaced.

"Ach, London! London! London! Why does everything have to be about London?"

"Aw, don't say that! Well, I can't say I liked it much either. I didn't get any sleep, I spent what felt like a month on planes and in honeymoon suites …"

Monica couldn't resist. "You only have yourself to blame for that. You really need someone to look after you!"

Rachel smiled wanly. "Yeah I do. Thanks Mon. Aw! If only Ross hadn't forgotten his jacket. Then we'd still be in Greece, enjoying the sun … It's so unfair!"

"What? That you got to enjoy it all on your own? At least you had three days in the sun. It can't have been that bad."

Rachel shrugged. "It was Ross' idea. I didn't want to go there alone, the plane took off before I noticed that he hadn't come back. And I spent most of the time in the customs office and with the hotel manager explaining matters. I hardly got any beachtime at all. And all the while I thought I was stranded there and couldn't get away. Now my credit card is maxed out, my boss is mad at me, and Ross is still chasing after his British chippie. Oh god! What do I do?"

"You should get some sleep, you must be tired out after your flight."

"I can't sleep" said Rachel petulantly and plopped herself on the couch next to Phoebe. "Maybe later, I'm too wound up now. So Pheebs, what about you? Any sign of the babies coming?"

"No, nothing. Every time I think they had enough and it's getting too cramped for them, they change their minds again. And they keep fighting each other!" Phoebe leaned back wearily. "I'm really getting tired of this."

"Aaawww, Pheebs" Rachel patted her on her big belly and recoiled when Phoebe shooed her off.

"Don't do that, it'll wake them up! Could you get me some more tea instead?"

"Sure …" Rachel and Monica exchanged worried glances and Rachel fetched more tea for Phoebe, helping herself to some coffee. Monica started to clear the table and stack the dishes in the sink, ready for washing up. Somehow she still felt shaken and nervous about Chandler's kissing spree. What a strange thing that had been for him to do. And yet – when he had kissed her it had felt so natural. She had even put her hand on his face when he kissed her, just as if they were a normal couple. And what was more, it had felt good. Really good. It had been so long since someone had kissed her goodbye like that. She hadn't known how much she had missed that.

And how did he think about it? Had it really been just a ruse to get out of this situation and did he feel sorry now? Or was he gloating about it, triumphant, still in high spirits because she had let that stupid nickname slip? He could get almost intolerably smug at times. Maybe he was still gloating now, dancing in that stupid way ...

The phone rang and Monica jumped. All of a sudden she knew it was Chandler. And Rachel was sitting next to it, already reaching over –

"I'll get it! I'll get it!" She fairly flew to the phone and snatched it up under Rachel's nose. Rachel stared at her and she turned and went back to the kitchen, answering the phone as she went.

"Yes?"

"Hi, it's me. Can you talk?" It was Chandler. She had been wrong about him. Of course he was sorry. And worried.

"Yes, just a moment …" She turned and smiled at Phoebe and Rachel who were both watching her with nearly identical puzzled expressions, and mouthed "my boss" at them. Then she went to the bathroom and further to the balcony window. "Okay … now, no, hold on a sec." She climbed out on the balcony and leaned on the railing for good measure. "Alright."

"Hi Mon. I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry. I … it was stupid."

"Really, really stupid" she agreed. "Where are you?"

"Payphone at the subway. It took me ages to find one that worked. I just wanted to make sure you're okay. What did Rachel and Phoebe say?"

"Oh, nothing much." She looked back into the living room. Phoebe and Rachel were still looking at her, but now turned away. "They think you're weird. They always think that so they're not suspicious."

"Oh thank god. I can live with that."

"But we really need to be –"

"More careful, I know. I will. I swear."

"Okay. It was my fault too." The noise from an incoming subway drowned out part of what she had been saying and it took a while before she could hear him properly again.

"Mon? Are you still there?"

"Yes. Maybe we should get cell phones. They don't cost that much anymore."

"Yeah, that's an idea. Actually I might know where to get them – well, I have to check that."

"When will you get home tonight?"

"I don't know really. It's Thursday, that's always hell at the office. Actually I wanted to ask you if we could meet in my office tonight and then go out for dinner?"

"Your office? Yeah, I'd like that."

"You remember where it is?"

"It's been a while, but yes, I do remember. 11th. floor, right?"

"Yeah. I should be done around 7 or so. At least, pretty much all the others will have left by then, so it won't matter."

"Okay, I'll be there!" Another subway swallowed his reply and she just caught the tail end ".. go now."

"Me too. See you tonight, Mr Big!" And she switched off the phone, grinning happily to herself.

.

She arrived a little early at the Solow building and spent some minutes in the lobby, looking at the displays and cast a professional eye on the menu of the 8 ½ Brasserie. After she had located the right elevator that accessed floors 6 – 12 the company Chandler worked for occupied, she went up to 11 and found herself in a rabbit warren of offices, meeting rooms, waiting rooms, kitchens and storerooms, all rather functional looking and not very appealing. And quite deserted, there seemed to be no one left, the hallways were quiet and there were no sounds coming from the offices either, which made it seem even more forlorn. For what felt like the thousandth time she wondered just how Chandler managed to work here and still retain his sanity, and moreover not die from boredom. No wonder he always kept so many toys and knickknacks in his office. It couldn't be just the money that made him stick to it. Maybe it was like an old habit he just couldn't shake off.

Just around the corner from his office she saw a huge copying machine which made her think of that ridiculous porno movie Joey had been in and which they had all watched together three years ago. Did people really have sex on there? She made a note to ask Chandler, he would probably know if anyone had done it on this particular machine. She hoped though that it wouldn't put any ideas in his head – it held no appeal whatsoever for her.

She found his office, knocked and opened the door on his 'come in'. Chandler was sitting at his desk, frowning at something on his computer screen that looked like a complicated graph chart. He was in his shirt with the sleeves rolled up and his tie tugged down, and his hair was mussed where he had run his fingers through it. He looked at her and his jaw fairly dropped.

"Hi Mon – oh my god! Wow, you look –" she thought his eyes would pop out of his head as he stared at her, and it thrilled her no end. After she had returned from the restaurant, where she had advised her boss what to buy and where and made a last check on her kitchen, she had spent hours in front of her wardrobe, agonizing over what to wear. In the end she had simply decided to doll herself up as much as possible, even though this wasn't an official date and she had no idea what he had planned. But it had been so long since she had dressed up for a date and it felt so good. And if she was a little overdressed, so what? Chandler of all people wouldn't mind, on the contrary.

".. beautiful" he finished lamely after searching for the right word and not finding it.

"Yeah, do you like it? Is it too much?" She couldn't stop smiling. Chandler hurriedly got up and met her halfway, and they embraced in front of his big window. She giggled as he audibly breathed in her scent and rolled his eyes in bliss, then snuffled at her neck and jawline while he held her tight around the waist. Her high heels brought her a little closer to his height and she pressed against him, moulding her body against his and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. They kissed and he abruptly brought her around and steered her backwards to his desk, lifting her slightly until she sat on the edge, wrapping her legs around his hips as much as the tight dress would allow. They kissed again and then drew apart a little, grinning at each other.

"Yes, I do like it. I really do. It's perfect. And no, it's not too much. Wow, I could just … look at you all day! Mmmh … are you wearing a bra?"

"Chandler …! Actually, no. The dress has a sort of built-in bra …"

"Oh god in sweet heaven ..." They kissed again and for a fleeting moment she was tempted to take it a bit further right there and then. But when she skooched further on the table, her butt came up against some hard object – his puncher as it turned out – and the moment was gone again.

"Ooops … sorry about that." He stepped back a little and helped her down. "We shouldn't take it too far around here anyway, if the cleaning crew catches us at it there'll be hell to pay."

"That bad?"

He rolled his eyes. "You have no idea. I've seen guys be traumatized for weeks after. Some of them even quit. Believe me, you don't want to meet the cleaning crew. They're a terror!"

"Mmh, sounds like a great job description. If I get enough of Allessandro's, maybe I could try to get a job with them." He grasped at his heart in shock and they laughed.

"But seriously, we should go. Just let me save this."

"Are you really finished? We still have time."

Chandler shut down his computer and put some papers in a folder on the desk.

"Maybe, but it's no use anyway now, I'll finish it tomorrow." He took his coat from the backrest of his chair and shrugged into it, then tried to straighten his tie, allowing her to take over when it snagged. They smiled at each other while she tightened it again in a smooth knot and she was suddenly struck by the thought how normal and natural that all felt. How ... ordinary. As if they were a real couple. Not just friends, not secret lovers meeting clandestinely and covertly for a round of hot, blind sex, but a normal everyday couple going out, spending time with each other, two people that had known each other for a long time and were comfortable with each other … She shook the thought off impatiently. Comfortable? Not yet, not really, though they might become that with time. If they got that far.

Chandler looked at her quizzically as if he had read her mind and she hurriedly tried to think of something else. "You – you've got some lipstick … there, no, it's okay now. This was supposed to be kiss-proof though. How about me, is it smeared?"

He checked and shrugged. "Looks fine to me, but you'll check anyway, so …?" She had already her compact out, but he was right, it wasn't smeared. Much.

"So – is there anywhere special you'd like to go?"

"Didn't you make a reservation?"

"No, I thought I'd leave it to you. But come to think of it, the way you look, we could go downstairs to 8 ½. Maybe we get lucky and they have a table."

"Really? Isn't that too pricey? I saw the menu when I got here."

He grinned. "Yeah, I know, I look at it every day when I get in. And so far I've only been there for office things. But I want to go there now, it's a special occasion after all."

She raised her eyebrows. "What special occasion?"

"Well, we've been toge- been doing it for seven days now. Almost a week, can you imagine?" She felt her stomach fluttering, if from the way he almost said 'together' or that it was enough for him to be rated as a special occasion she didn't know. Anyhow, how sweet was that?

"And I really owe it to you after that fright I gave you this morning. No, I really do."

"In that case … let's go."

.

When they finally got back to Bedford Street, it was almost midnight. 8 ½ had closed at 10 and they had hit a couple of bars after that, carefully choosing those where the risk to run into Joey was negligible. In the last one a swing band was playing, which they had both enjoyed a lot. Monica who hadn't drunk that much since London, was feeling quite tipsy and as if she was almost floating up the stairs instead of climbing them, even though her high heels were giving her hell. There was light coming under the doors from both #20 and #19, but no sounds whatsoever, from which they deducted that Joey and Rachel respectively had left a light on for them and gone to bed.

"Let's meet in 10 minutes" she whispered.

"My place or yours?"

She shrugged. "Rachel's probably very tired and Joey's a tight sleeper … Flip for it? Heads!"

It was tails and she sighed, pecked him on the cheek and slipped into #20. Rachel had indeed left the table lamp on for her and apparently gone to bed. She listened a little at the door to make sure, but didn't hear a sound.

In her bedroom she undressed and put on her bathrobe, then went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and take off her makeup. When she returned to her bedroom she looked for a nightie and then abruptly decided to go commando under the bathrobe.

Chandler was waiting for her in the bathroom when she entered #19 and shut the door again as silently as possible. Arms around each other they crept into his bedroom and Chandler closed both halves of the door and turned the key for good measure. She waited until he turned to her again and let her robe slide from her shoulders, enjoying the expression of utter amazement on his face. For just a moment he stood as if frozen, staring at her, then he shed his own bathrobe and she had to stifle a delighted giggle when it turned out that he too had been naked under it.

He picked her up and laid her on the bed, then positioned himself on top of her, supporting himself up on his elbows and knees, but she would not have it and drew him down instead until he was lying on her with his full length. When he tried to protest she stilled him with a kiss and held him firmly in place by wrapping her arms and legs tightly around him, crossing her ankles over his buttocks. They shifted and twisted for a while, admonishing each other to quietness every time the bed squeaked and giggling as softly as possible into their kisses. Her arousal grew as his growing erection pressed against her, until she thought she couldn't bear it anymore. At last he gained entrance and pushed into her very slowly, inch by loving inch, while her breath caught and her hands clenched on his back and shoulders. His mouth came down on hers and she met his tongue and gently teased it with her own. He had slid one hand under her to support the small of her back and press her against him. His other hand was under her head cradling her neck. Stuck and joined to him like that made her feel like she was suspended in time and space, cut off from the real world, as if all of their existence had shrunk to a tight little bubble that only contained them and nothing else. His movements were slow and languid and every so often he stopped altogether and just held himself inside her. As always she was amazed at how well their bodies fitted together, how adjusted they were. She had always thought she could only fall for men that were much taller and broader, towering over her like Richard and Pete, in fact men who reminded her of her father. While Chandler was taller than her by about half a head, she still felt that he was much closer to her in height than the others, still at her eye level, which made him more of a partner to her and nothing like a father figure at all. Rather than crushing her under him his body felt more like an extension of her own, as each of his gentle motions was answered by one of her own and vice versa. Even their breaths seemed to be in tune.

They kept going like that for a long time, until gradually their arousal reached its peak and their movements quickened and got more urgent. She sensed that he was holding himself back as much as possible, wanting her to climax first, and tried to let herself go, relax against him and let herself be carried away. The first two efforts failed, then it felt as if a wave overtook her and turned her to a weightless boneless goo. His next thrust sent her over the edge, and he clamped his hand over her mouth just in time to silence her scream. As her arousal ebbed again she sensed that he was struggling to find his pace again and gently tightened and pushed against him until he hit his own release, shuddering and trembling, while she stroked his back and shoulders soothingly. When he tried to roll off, she wouldn't let him and they remained still until he had gone limp again inside her. Then they were on their sides holding each other tight and kissing, until their sweat cooled on their skin, and they had to get under the covers. She turned around and snuggled against him while he put his arm around her gently stroking her hips and belly. She had time enough to realize that his bed wasn't quite as comfortable as hers, the mattress was lumpy somehow and the sheet a little scratchy. But sleep overtook her before she could really get herself to care.


	17. Chapter 17: Nighttime Emergency

_A/N: Yes, I'm afraid this time I did cheat a little with the timeline of the episode. By right, Rachel's date and Monica's laundry should take place the day after the second kissing round and not on the same day, but I couldn't make it work otherwise, so sue me. (I hope you like it regardless though)._

_Judy, thanks, and Katelyn too, I'm glad you like it so much. Btw, to find that building we always see when they show Chandler at work you just have to google "Chandler's office". The Wikipedia entry about the Solow building was very helpful too, but I since I had no idea what it looked like on the inside in 1998, I kept it a little vague._

_And yes, if you sign up, we could PM each other. On the other hand, being constantly requested to log in again and confirm that you read the guidelines is rather a pain, so I understand if you prefer to remain outside. Your choice._

_._

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Chandler woke because his bed seemed to be moving in a funny way – or that's what he thought at first. Then he realized that it wasn't the bed itself, but someone moving on it in a funny way. When he raised his head and his eyes adjusted to the faint light from the streetlamp outside his window he saw that it was Monica trying to wriggle down to the end of the bed on her back with her knees drawn up and her legs pressed together. At the edge of the bed she slid to the floor and rolled on her side, then started to grope around as if searching for something.

"Mon? What's up?" He remembered just in time to whisper.

"Nothing. It's nothing. Go back to sleep." She took up her bathrobe from the floor and got up on her knees, her legs still pressed firmly together and put it on. Chandler sat up and scrambled across the bed to the edge.

"What's going on? Are you okay?"

"I said it's nothing! I just – I need to leave."

"Why, what time is it?" He checked his alarm. "Just gone 3, do you really need t-"

"Yes, I do." Her tone left no doubt and sighing he swung his legs off the bed and started groping for his own bathrobe.

"Alright, no problem. You want me to check if it's safe?"

When she remained kneeling on the floor as if unable to get up, and then winced and even doubled over a little, it finally started to dawn on him. He went to her, knelt down and reached out to her.

"Mon? Is it your period?" He couldn't see her clearly but it looked like she pressed her lips together and scrunched up her face before she turned her head away. For a moment she remained silent, then –

"Have you got – tissues? Here?"

"Sure, I'll get them." He padded over to the nightstand to get them out of the drawer, then he put on the light. Monica started and closed her eyes, wincing again.

"I - I think I bled on your bed. I'm sorry."

"Oh. Don't be. Don't worry about it. It's no big deal. Really." He handed her a package of tissues.

"But it is!" She started to raise her voice and checked herself just in time. "For me. I hate it when that happens. I should have … I just forgot." She looked at the tissues helplessly as if she didn't know what she had wanted them for. Chandler turned back the cover to check the sheet where she had been lying, then turned back to her, smiling.

"Relax. There's just a little spot. Nothing to worry about. You made it sound as if the bed was dripping with blood." To his intense relief that made her smile – a little and very faint, but definitively smile.

"Really? I thought it had to be more. And that it would stain the mattress."

"Shshsh. Nope, it's okay. Don't worry, it's an old sheet anyway."

"I'll wash it. It needs to get soaked in cold water first, or it won't come out."

"I know. And no, you don't need to wash it. It's no big deal."

"But I wanted to do some laundry today anyway. I can wash it then."

"Then we'll do it together, okay? But now let's take care of you. Can you get up?"

"I – I think so – um, is there a towel? I don't want it to get on your carpet ..."

"Sure. Oh wait, hang on …" and he went to his wardrobe, rummaging in it, then brought out his spandex shorts and offered them to her, grinning when she glared at him unbelieving.

"What is this?! Your shorts? I can't wear your shorts!"

"Why not? They're stretch pants, they won't be too big on you."

"You can't be serious."

"Just try them. You can bleed into them as much as you want, I never wear them anyway. Not since you made fun of them, remember? Here, let me help. Here's a towel – just get on that …"

He spread the towel on the floor and helped her get on it and stand up. She pulled some tissues and bent over to clean herself up, glaring at him first until he averted his eyes. He looked for his bathrobe again and put it on, then got out his pajama pants from the wardrobe. From the corner of his eyes he saw Monica stepping into the spandex shorts. There were indeed a little big on her, but didn't slide down, and didn't look as ridiculous as he had thought they would. She turned her back on him to put some more tissues under her crotch, then drew them up once more. Chandler put on his pajama pants and hunted for a t-shirt.

"Would you like a t-shirt too?"

"I would like to go now." She took up the towel and put it in his hamper. Chandler sighed and shrugged and went to the door to unlock it and check. Then they both froze when they heard the squeaking of bedsprings from next door. It sounded very much like Joey getting up. Monica put a hand on her mouth as if to stifle a scream and Chandler dived to the nightstand to turn out the light. They listened breathlessly as Joey padded to the door and went into the living room, humming under his breath. Then the bathroom door opened and shut and they both breathed again.

"It's okay … just a bathroom trip … shshsh …" He went to her and put his arms around her, drawing her close. Monica resisted at first, then she relaxed against him, as he patted her back and kissed the top of her head. They stood like this for a while, holding each other and listening.

"What's taking him so long?"

He shrugged. "Sometimes he falls asleep … you know. Don't worry, he usually wakes up again when – ah, there he goes." They heard a muffled thud followed by an 'uummph' sound and a sigh, then the toilet being flushed and Joey's footsteps shuffling back to his room. Chandler put his mouth near Monica's ear.

"We need to wait a little – maybe ten minutes, to make sure." She clicked her tongue impatiently and he stroked her hair soothingly. "Come on, let's lie down again. I'm getting cold." She resisted at first and then gave in and got on the bed again. He got in beside her and put the cover over them both. When he wanted to turn out the light however, she stopped him.

"No – leave it on. I don't want to fall asleep again."

She lay on her back with her hands on her middle, rather stiffly at first, and when he tentatively put his hand on her belly over the bathrobe, she winced.

"Don't …"

"Shshsh. Monica. Relax. It's okay." He let his hand lie where it was and after a moment she did relax. On the other side of the wall Joey started on his usual going-to-sleep-snore. Chandler had become so used to it that he didn't react, but Monica fairly jumped.

"What in the world … Is that Joey?"

"Yeah. Don't worry, it won't take long."

"Wow. Is this always that bad? How can you sleep through this?"

"I can't, but he usually stops when he turns on his side."

"And if he doesn't?"

"Then I have to make him."

"You really do that?"

"Yup, but only if it gets much worse. Believe me, this is still tame."

"Oh." She lay back again and they listened silently to Joey's concert for a while. Chandler shifted a little and put his arm under his pillow.

"I'm sorry for being such a bitch" Monica said quietly, not opening her eyes.

"You're not a bitch. You're just worried. It's okay."

"Why did that have to happen now?"

He snorted. "You know how many times I've asked myself that? I've got news for you: there are things that you just can't control. They just happen."

She glared at him. "Not if I don't let them. I should have remembered."

"Remembered what?"

"That … it was due. I do usually. I'm very regular too."

"So? It's not the end of the world, is it?"

She closed her eyes again. "Easy for you to say."

"Yeah, I guess. Alright, be mad at yourself, if it helps." She smiled faintly at that and stretched out some more. One of her hands touched his and she hesitated and then put it on his and pressed down slightly. He opened his mouth to ask and then thought better of it and just let his fingertips slowly wander under her bathrobe, gently probing and advancing. She tensed and frowned a little, but didn't push him away, so he continued, very cautiously, to stroke the area between her navel and the edge of the stretch pants with the tips of his fingers and his palm. She kept her hand on his wrist, but didn't try to pull it away, even when he put his whole hand on her abdomen and gently rubbed it.

"Mmmmh … you're good."

"Yeah? Really?"

"Uh-hu. But don't gloat please."

"Aw."

She grinned. "Just wait, until I give you a massage. Then – ooh, um –" she winced suddenly and drew up her knees again.

"What is it? Does it hurt?"

"No … it just – when I relax like this, it makes me, um …"

"Need more tissues?"

She glared at him again. "Please, don't ever joke about this, okay?"

"I wasn't … okay, I won't. Seriously though, can't you just – make do with tissues? Just for now?"

"Ugh. Well, I could … but … I don't know."

"Just try. Here are more tissues – and we can put that towel under, just let me get it ... There, how does that feel?"

"A little better, thanks."

"You're welcome." He settled beside her again and put his arm under her head, then continued with the massage. She kept her knees drawn up at first, then gradually relaxed and finally stretched out again, closing her eyes.

"Chandler?"

"Mmmh?"

"Aren't you tired?"

"Mmmh."

"Well, are you?"

"No, not really. Shshsh. It's Friday. No need to hurry."

"Right. I forgot. Brunch at the Perk. That's good. Ummh." She twitched a little under his hand and relaxed again. He spread his fingers a little more to cover more of her lower belly and kept stroking and rubbing her, enjoying the feel of her soft smooth skin and the way her breathing made her abdomen lift and sag again under his hand. He got so absorbed by it that he didn't notice she had fallen asleep again, until her head sank to the side and her breath started to rattle just a little as her nasal passages tightened. He continued stroking her, watching her sleep until he was sure she was good and out, then carefully stretched out his arm and twisted, until he managed to turn down the light at last without waking her.

.

When his alarm finally went, he woke only to find her gone. Somehow she had sneaked out of the bed this time without waking him. She had taken the towel too, presumably to make sure it got washed. A wonder she had left the sheet on the bed. He considered briefly to leave it – the stain was really small – but he knew it would seriously bother her, so he sighed and stripped it off the bed to take it to the bathroom with him, where he spread it across the washbasin and soaked the area around the stain with cold water. It worked too, most of the stain had dissolved by the time he finished his shower.

When he came out of the bathroom, he was surprised to find Joey already up, looking at the paper and eating his cereals at the counter. Next to him the duck and the chick were peacefully feeding from their bowls, occasionally shaking out their plumage and squawking. Every now and then one of them would check out Joey's cereals and he kept pushing them away without taking his eyes from the funnies. It was a cute scene and Chandler suddenly wished he had a camera of his own to take a picture of it or even record it. He had no idea where Joey kept his and didn't want to ask. But a camera of his own – maybe that wasn't such a bad idea. He was sure Monica and he could put it to good use.

Joey looked up and frowned at the bunched up sheet in his arms. "Hey, what's with that? Did you-"

"Nope. Nosebleed."

"Ah. Ugh. Um, yeah, you know, with bloodstains you need to soak them-"

"- in cold water. Yeah I know. Just did that."

"Ah. That's good." And he turned to the funnies again. Chandler put the sheet in his hamper and made a mental note to definitely get laundry done with Monica that night. They could do it in the cellar this time – the laundromats usually were rather crowded on Fridays. Then he selected his suit, shirt and tie for today and started to get dressed.

.

Down at Central Perk's they found Monica already there, alone on the big couch, looking perky and cool in a short loose yellow dress that accented her dark hair. It was unusually warm for Mid-September and her sight made him feel even more hot and wishing he didn't have to wear a suit. As soon as Joey had gone to get their coffees and bagels, he looked at her inquiringly.

"So, how do you feel?"

She shot him a disapproving look and then her expression softened.

"Fine, thank you, but I really would appreciate not talking about –"

"Sure, okay. No problem. Just this, I soaked the sheet like you told me."

Her eyes lit up. "Yeah? Did it come out?"

"Yup. It did. Everything's okay."

She looked like she wanted to add something, but then Joey returned with their food and sat next to him on the couch, and the opportunity was lost again. They ate their bagels and looked at the pictures from London Monica had gotten back the day before. As usual Chandler wasn't too thrilled with himself in the pictures – somehow he always looked ridiculous when he was photographed – but there were some nice ones of Monica who always took a great picture. There even was one showing the two of them at the reception that must have been taken shortly after the drunken guy congratulated Monica on her wonderful son – in fact shortly before she had come to his room. He looked up from the picture to meet her eyes and realized that she was thinking along the same lines, and got hot under his collar once more.

Then Rachel finally appeared, looking rather stunning in a very tight-fitting sleeveless dress, but apparently still out of sorts, slumping listlessly into the big chair and moping. Even Monica's pictures from London couldn't elicit her interest.

"Oohh, he's married. Ross is married … I still can't believe it." Chandler saw Monica rolling her eyes and grinned. Rachel grabbed the pictures and shuffled them carelessly, making Monica wince.

"Honey, sweetie, by the edges …"

"I mean, you know, I'm gonna have to accept it, I mean it's my fault ..."

"Sweetie! Edges! Fingers! Smudgy! Pictures!" Monica was getting frantic, which made Rachel even more mad and she licked the pictures just to spite her. For a moment Chandler thought Monica would flip, but she calmed almost immediately again.

"Okay, okay, I know you're very upset right now. I know that wasn't about me."

"I bet it was about her a little" Joey commented drily and Chandler agreed. As Monica tried to distract Rachel and suggested first Gunther and then a guy at a side table for a date (he was glad though that Rachel decided on him instead of Gunther, because he'd have hated to be banned from their accustomed meeting place just because of a bad date), he kept looking at her and marveled how cool and amazing she looked. Especially her legs.

"All right" Rachel said at last. "You're the boss. I guess I gotta do what you tell me."

"Say that to him and you're golden" Joey put in and Chandler grinned. By right that line should have been his, but he didn't care. Plus he still felt too hot. Rachel glared at them and then did get up and approached the guy, who seemed surprised, but quite pleased. Chandler didn't get any more of that because now Phoebe made her entrance and took Rachel's place in the big chair. She seemed even more out of sorts than her friend and the pictures were no better success with her than earlier with Rachel. She even drew on them with her marker, at which Monica gave up. Chandler decided he needed to defuse the situation a little.

"We've been talking too much about London, haven't we?"

Phoebe shrugged. "No, I'm sorry, it's just because I couldn't be there." Thank god for that, he thought to himself. "'Cause all I ever get to do now is pregnant stuff, it just bums me out."

They all murmured their sorrys and Monica suggested that she should think about how wonderful life was, deftly retrieving her pictures at the same time. Chandler suddenly thought that some sort of weekend trip could be just the thing. It would cheer up Phoebe and maybe give him and Monica a little time together. He needed to sound her out on it first though.

Rachel returned, in much better spirits now and sat on the back rest of the couch. As usual Monica couldn't wait. "What happened?"

Rachel looked smug. "Well, you know, a little of this, a little of that. Got myself a date tomorrow night."

Monica was elated. "See, didn't I tell you? You're getting over Ross already!"

"Well …"

"Where are you going?"

"Oh, some restaurant near the Plaza. He said, it's not so crowded on Fridays."

"Friday? Didn't you say, your date was tomorrow?"

"Yes, tomorrow, on Friday. What?"

"Sweetie, today is Friday."

"What? Today? I thought it was Thursday! Wait, Dave, what – oh, where is he?"

"Gunther's thrown him out" said Joey grinning.


	18. Chapter 18: French Kissing

_A/N: Somehow I'm still having trouble with the timeline of this episode, but I'm getting there, just one or maybe two chapters more now. I hope you like it nonetheless._

_And yes, I'll try to update the Sock Bunny story soon, but it still needs some work. Thanks for the suggestions, Katelyn btw. I don't think TOW Rachel goes back to work will work with it, but TOW Rachel's phone no. could actually do very well. I'll think about it, I promise. Also about a nice alternative title of course :-)_

_PS: And yes, I've got the same trouble with Firefox. Chrome works though, but I prefer Firefox. I already sent an email to Fanfiction Support (under 'Help' at the bottom), and I hope they fix the problem soon._

.

.

Where was he?

He'd said he'd be back early. Fridays were always a breeze, nobody did any work on that day. By 4 p.m. latest everyone would have left for the weekend.

Now it was almost 6.30 p.m., Phoebe and Rachel would be back any minute now and he still had not come back. She had hoped for a little cuddle in her bedroom or on the couch or at least some minutes together, but he hadn't come.

She tried to keep herself busy with things in the apartment, sorting laundry, cleaning the kitchen, starting an overdue letter to her grandmother in Florida, but it was no use. She always ended up pacing the apartment, waiting and longing for him, and then clenching her fists and shaking her head at herself.

She kept telling herself not to care so much, that it shouldn't really matter to her if he was late. She didn't need him. She couldn't, shouldn't allow herself to get all hung up about him. Once she let things slide, it would all get out of hand; once he realized how much she needed him, he would get all cocky and annoying and insufferable again. She mustn't let that happen. Especially not now, not yet, when it was still so early and she couldn't tell if he was taking this … thing they had, this affair, really serious, if he truly cared.

After all, why should he fall in love with her now, after all these years? Affection, attachment, desire – yes, she believed that he felt all that for her, but love? No way. Not yet at least, and maybe not ever. And she wasn't in love with him. She was sure of that. Yes, she cared about him. A lot. She loved how relaxed she could be around him, totally at ease, knowing that he knew her, was aware of what he had let himself in for and accepted how she was without protest, without trying to change her. Add to that the physical side, that special connection, those amazing times that they had shared. It was enough to send anyone over the moon and back. Enough to make her ache for him, miss him dreadfully when he wasn't there … Oh god, why did it have to be so complicated? Was it just her, or the fact that they had been friends for so long? If they had been total strangers, if she had just met him for the first time in London, she would now be head over heels in love with him and expect him to love her back. Then if it turned out that he didn't return her feelings, she would realize that they had no future and break it off, send him packing and not much harm done. But she couldn't send Chandler packing. He was as much an integral part of their group as she was. That was the reason they needed to handle their peculiar relationship, or affair, so carefully – and patiently. Yes, patiently. But she wasn't sure how much more patience she could muster. Especially now, when she felt anxious and depressed from her period, and also sore and aching in the small of her back, in short all her usual symptoms that she hated so much. In fact the main reason she had longed for his return so much was how good he had been to her last night, how perfectly sweet about it all, and the way his touch, his mere presence even had eased her discomfort and worries so much. When she woke again next to him and realized that he had managed to soothe her enough to let her fall asleep, she had been sorely tempted to stay. But in the end her anxiety and yes, shame even though it was unfounded, had driven her back to her apartment. Somehow she thought that he understood even that. And he would make her feel better if he was here. If only he was here …

She was going in circles again. Maybe she should watch TV to pass the time … Yup, worked like a charm. Just as she was walking over to the TV set, he heard him running up the steps and down the hallway. She knew it was him, even before he opened the door and their eyes met. He let the door fall shut behind him and they almost flew together, embracing and kissing hungrily. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed against him and he held her tight with one hand on the small of her back and the other against the back of her head, holding her steady and running his fingers through her hair.

"Mmmmmhhhmmmh … What took you so long?!" She didn't want to know really, only said what was on the forefront of her mind when they came up for air. He was breathing hard and his eyes had glazed over.

"I got caught up at work … but I'm quitting tomorrow!"

"Oh good …!" and never mind that tomorrow was Saturday. He was here and he was kissing her again, that was all that mattered. She hardly noticed when he turned her around so that he was facing the door, just kept on kissing, deaf and blind to everything around her even as he pushed her away and stepped back, spreading his arms.

"So, thanks for having me over!" he exclaimed and then and only then she realized that Rachel and Phoebe had come in and almost caught them. Again.

She wanted to scream at her own stupidity, her carelessness, but there was no time. There was only one thing to do for him, as much as she hated it … She just caught him mouthing the word "cellar" at her, then he resolutely strode towards Rachel and kissed her heartily on the mouth before she could dodge him, let alone protest. Releasing her he bravely soldiered on to Phoebe to give her the full treatment too after successfully negotiating her protruding belly. When he headed out the door Joey jumped back just in time to avoid the favor. Then he was gone and she fought for control as Joey and the others were staring after him and then at her in amazement.

"What the hell was that?!"

She shook her head, trying to appear annoyed and mystified. "Probably some European good-bye thing he picked up in London …?"

"That's not European!" Rachel protested. Phoebe shrugged dismissively.

"Well, it felt French." Monica who had started to relax again did a double take. Wait a minute - French?! She was distracted by Joey however who thought he could jump on the wagon and get a little action for himself. She pushed him away and he left again sulking. Another close call averted. They should really be – no, she was sounding like a stuck record by now.

"Monica … Mon? I need to get ready – Mon? What's with you?" Rachel was staring at her and she pulled herself together.

"Sorry, woolgathering. Actually I need to get my laundry done. Now. I'm late already."

"Like this?" Rachel looked her up and down and Monica almost groaned. All that time spent just waiting for Chandler and she had forgotten to change into her doing-laundry-outfit.

"Noo! I'm changing now. Oh, need me to wash some of your stuff too?"

"OOOOHH, would you? Really? Oh, Monica, you're a life-saver! Pheebs, could you help me?"

As Phoebe sighed and waddled over, Monica escaped into her bedroom to change. She hesitated a little with the white pants, but put them on anyway, reasoning that nothing much could happen in a couple of hours with a super tampon and an extra thick pad for safety.

After Rachel had handed over what felt like about half of her wardrobe she left the apartment carrying her big basket and suds and climbed down the stairs to the cellar where Treeger had had three coin operated washing machines and dryers installed some years ago. Chandler was already there, sorting through his laundry. He had changed too, into jeans and a checkered shirt with one of his sweater vests over it. When she came in he jumped and then hurried over to take the basket from her and put it on the floor in front of the machines. When he tried to pull her close however she held him back.

"Did you really French kiss Phoebe?" His mouth fell open.

"What? Did she say that?"

"Well, something along those lines. So did you?"

"No! No, at least not on purpose. I swear! Why should I? It was bad enough I had to kiss all of them –"

"- again –"

"Yes, again. Sorry about that. I didn't know what else to do. We really need –"

"- to be more careful. I know. I KNOW!"

"Shshsh. It's okay. It's not your fault. It's alright. Shshsh …" he enfolded her in his arms and she leaned again him with her eyes closed, trying to relax. He stroked her hair and kissed her on top of her head, and when she nestled against him, one of his hands slid down her back, finding and rubbing just the right spot with the dull ache in it as if by pure instinct. She sighed contentedly and pressed even closer.

"Mmmmh … that feels so good …"

He kissed her on her cheek and on her neck, then searched for her mouth tentatively and they toyed with their lips for a while before sealing the deal for good.

The sound of a door shutting and footsteps in the lobby brought them apart again. She thought it could be Rachel's date, but wasn't sure.

"Oh god, it's getting late and we haven't even started yet …"

"Relax, what's the hurry? Yeah, okay, you're right, let's do this … wow, where did all this come from? What did we wash two days ago?"

"It's mostly Rachel's. You have a lot left too."

"Well, yeah, almost all my London stuff. And the sheet of course." He winked and she glared at him and then smiled.

"Right, and this." She brought out the stretch shorts. "Thanks again. They worked really well."

"I told you, you can totally keep them. I never wear them, you know that."

"But I have my own. It might look funny if someone finds yours in my stuff."

"Who would find them in your stuff?"

"Rachel might. She often borrows … well, things. I do it too."

"Then just hide them. Don't you hide stuff you don't want found?"

"I don't have anything I need to hide."

"Really? What about Christmas presents? Or sexy lingerie? Or special … toys? No? Aw."

She kept her face carefully blank. "… toys…?"

"Well, you know … just … you don't know?"

"I really don't know what you mean." It was hard, but somehow she managed to hold back the laughter that was bubbling up inside her. Chandler looked seriously bewildered.

"I mean, come on, sex toys. I thought you girls all had them – what?!"

"Sex toys? What would I need those for? Well, really!" For just a moment she actually managed to retain her role of outraged innocence, then she almost doubled over with laughter. Chandler looked offended, then joined in and she leaned against him, snuffling and shaking.

"But seriously ... do you?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Well, just curious. So do you?"

She grinned and shook her head. "I can't … not now. Maybe one day. But not now. Come on, let's get on with this! How did we get on this subject anyway? Oh, yes, hiding places. Alright, I might find a place where Rachel won't find it. But wouldn't it make more sense if you kept them? Maybe I'll need them again when I'm in your room and can't get out."

"Okay, I'll keep them for you then." He put them into the appropriate machine and closed the lid. "All set? Shall we get something to eat? Pizza?"

"Actually I've got a quiche upstairs. It just needs to be warmed up. We can eat it here."

Treeger had put an old couch and an easy chair into the room for the tenants who wouldn't leave their washing unattended. They weren't as clean as she would have liked, but serviceable.

"That sounds great." Chandler rubbed her back gratefully while she measured out the suds carefully and started the machines. As they began their sloshing and churning, Chandler sat in the easy chair and drew Monica on his lap, holding her against him while she put her legs over the armrest. Then they kissed again, long and lingeringly and moaning softly.

"Mmmmmh …. Yes … right there … ooohhh … that's so much better …"

"Just your back? Nothing else hurting …? Here …? Or here …?"

She smiled. "Not right now. Maybe later …?"

"You got it." He continued to gently stroke and rub her back just over her hips with one hand while sliding the other one under her tank top and up her spine until it reached her bra. She thought he would try to open it, but he just let his fingertips stray over and along it, to the side and under her armpit to her breast, where he gently wiggled one finger under it until he found her nipple. Then he kissed her and pushed his tongue between her lips so it touched hers just as he teased her nipple and it sent a thrill through her that made her squirm and shift on his lap. Suddenly he breathed in sharply and pushed her away a little.

"Um, what is it?"

"Nothing. You're just … well, actually you're sitting on my dick."

"Oh. I didn't … does it hurt?"

"No. No, I'm okay, no damage done … yet …" And he pulled her close once more, toying again with her bra fastening on her back. It drove her crazy.

"Want me to take it off?"

"Mmmmh … would you? I just can't figure those things out ever."

"I can show you. It's easy if you know how."

"That's what you say. I'm alright with buttons, but those hooks …"

"Just push them together a little … no, not like that. Like that. Yeah, there you are!"

"Wow. You're right, it is easy. Why hasn't anybody shown me before? This should be public knowledge! There should be courses! Lectures!"

She giggled. "Why didn't you get Joey to show you? No bra is safe from him."

"Well, I tried once, but he said it was a special talent and you either had it or you didn't. Mmmh. Mmmh- um, oops – sensitive?"

"A little. Just go slow … oooohhh yeah. Yes, like that … ooohh …" She was straddling him now, holding on to his shoulders with her eyes closed while he cupped both of her breasts with his hands and let the tips of his thumbs slide over the nipples, making her shiver and catch her breath. They kissed again, and he pushed up her tank top and kissed her breasts, gently sucking and licking the nipples, and for a mad moment she forgot everything, the soreness, the backpain, the discomfort, and just felt hot and aroused. She wanted to be naked and feel his hands and lips all over her, wanted him to be naked too and touch him everywhere, kiss and caress him all over, wanted him to hold her and feel him slowly sliding into her … She broke away abruptly, panting heavily, and slowly got up.

"No. Sorry, but … I can't …" All of a sudden she felt like crying and clenched her hands in frustration. Chandler got to his feet and held her close to him.

"It's okay. I'm not pushing you. It's okay. Totally your call. Shshsh."

She let him hold her and breathed in deeply, trying to calm down. "I know. I want to … but I can't. Maybe one day - but … not yet."

He smiled and took her head in his hands. "Alright. To be honest, I'd rather not do it here anyway. We can do better than that." That made her smile again, almost against her will and they kissed again, softer this time.

"So what about that – what was it?"

"The quiche, oh yeah, I totally forgot! I'll get it." And she ran out of the washing room before he could protest, took the stairs two at a time and up to no. 20. The door was unlocked and in her mind she was already blaming Rachel for forgetting once more to lock it when she saw Ross slumping on the couch and staring dejectedly at an opened carton box.

"Ross! What are you doing here – oh, what's that?"

He looked at her woefully and held out a hand full of crushed rose petals and shredded leafs without a word.

"Oh. Oh my. Are those the roses you had delivered to Emily?"

"Well kinda. She phoned the delivery service and told them to send me 72 long-stemmed roses too – but to shred them first."

It wasn't funny, not at all, but she had to struggle to hold back the giggling anyway. He was so absorbed in his misery that he didn't notice. As usual. And she wasn't in the mood to cater to his self-pity. Not today.

"Well, you can leave that here and I'll make potpourri" she said briskly. Ross stared at her woundedly.

"Monica …!"

"Sorry bro, I've got no time for this, got my laundry to do. There's quiche in the oven if you want some. I'll be up later." Good thing she had made two, figuring Joey would take his share. She put cutlery, napkins and soft drinks in a basket and took one of the quiches out of the oven.

"… Potpourri?" he repeated, totally bewildered. "You really want to make – potpourri? From this?"

"Sure, why not? Makes for a nice smell. Then they'll be good for something useful at least."

He was still shaking his head, mumbling 'potpourri' over and over when she left again, glad that he hadn't asked her about the quiche. On the stairs she started to giggle helplessly. Poor Ross. If Emily didn't relent anytime soon, he'd drive them all crazy with his misery. Except Rachel maybe – but she had taken care of Rachel. If everything worked out, she would forget Ross once more and the group would be at peace again. For a while at least. Hopefully.

When she got back to the cellar, Chandler was just transferring the contents of one of the machines into a dryer and started it up. They sat on the couch sharing the quiche while she told him about Ross and the shredded roses, and he almost choked.

"Potpourri?!"

She grinned around a mouthful of quiche and nodded.

"Wow. You actually told him that, and left him alone upstairs? This is so not like you. Are you alright?" He put a hand to her forehead to test her for fever and she laughed.

"Yeah, I know. But if I had stayed, he'd only gotten worse. He needs to figure it out by himself."

"Well, he's got the time now. Unless Rachel's home early –"

"But she's on a date! I was hoping she'd be home late, so we could – you know …"

His smile broadened. "Oh yeah. But your place? Think it's safe?"

"If we're careful …" she sighed. "Or not. I guess your room is safer, but … well, to be honest, I don't like your mattress much."

"I know. Me neither."

"Why don't you get a new one?"

"Dunno. Never thought of it. But you're right, I should.

"We could do it together! Go to a shop and try them all out first …"

"Oh yeah. Sounds good. Where did you get your mattress by the way? It's really good."

Monica opened her mouth and abruptly closed it again. "I – don't remember."

"You don't remember? Come on! Where did you – oh. Oh, I see."

"Yes." She said in a small voice. "The Mattress King. I'm sorry, but it was a special offer and you said it was good."

"Alright. It doesn't matter. I'm done with that. And yes, it's a good mattress … but I'd rather not buy mine there, okay?"

"Absolutely. Anywhere but there. I wouldn't shop there anyway, don't you remember they sent me the wrong bed? If it hadn't been for Joey, I'd still be sleeping in that kids bed."

"Oh, the race car bed! That was cool. Um. Yeah, but so not – yeah. We'll find another one. And until then – your room?"

"I guess. We'll see how it goes. If Rachel's late …"

"It's her first date with that guy. My guess is she'll be home early."

"Wanna bet?"

"With you? Nooooo ... What'd you bet?"

"Well … if I win … you get that door of yours fixed."

"Okay … and if I win?"

"You won't win."

"Of course not" he agreed amiably. "But if I do –"

"Well?"

"Then you … show me your sex toys."

"Chandler!"

"Hmmm?"

"… okay."


	19. Chapter 19: Playing Doctor

_A/N: This one's got away from me a little – just shows what one whole afternoon all alone by myself can do :-) So this chapter's got a little longer than usual, but I hope not too long for you._

_Many thanks again for all your nice reviews, my faithful reader Katelyn of course and all you guests and followers, and you too, KPvevo4567, welcome back, I hope you continue to like it._

_And please, don't hesitate to tell me if I've got something wrong like an expression or term of speech. Or, god forbid, a fact even. Nobody is perfect, me least of all, and I'm always happy to learn._

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When Chandler arrived at no. 19, rather out of breath after climbing 5 flights of stairs with his laundry sack and a bundle of Monica's towels she had forgotten when she had left so abruptly to confront Rachel, he came upon Joey who stood in their kitchen scowling and rubbing his shoulder.

"What happened, man?"

"Rachel wouldn't let her in, so I offered to kick the door in for her. And then she was already in. I don't know how." Joey narrowed his eyes at Chandler. "She wouldn't let me kiss her. How come she lets you kiss her and not me?"

Chandler put down the laundry sack on floor and stacked the sheets and towels on the counter, forgetting that it might not be clean and then mentally kicking himself for it.

"She didn't let me kiss her. I just did."

"Why?"

"Why not? You wanted to kiss her too!"

"Yeah … but … well, why didn't she blow you off?"

"I don't know. Ask her."

"And the others? How did you do that?"

Chandler smirked. "Gotta be a special talent. Either you got it – or you don't." He winked at him and picked up his laundry sack to haul it into his bedroom. "Those towels are Monica's by the way."

"You did laundry with her again?" Joey looked bewildered. "I thought you did that three days ago!"

"Four. Well, you know Monica, always has lots of stuff, especially after London. Actually – yes, actually she asked me to help her, to make up for that kiss. You know how she can be."

Joey's brow cleared and he nodded sagely. "Sure, she's on the rag."

Chandler stared. "What? How do you know that?!"

"I always know that. Don't you?"

"Well, no, I mean … how?"

Joey shrugged. "I grew up with seven sisters. And they always got it at the same time. I tell you, there's not a lot you can tell me about that that I don't know."

"Wow." And Chandler suddenly remembered Joey being so sure that Rachel hadn't bought sanitary pads when they were guessing the contents of her shopping bag – the bet that had led them eventually to win the apartment from the girls. "So you can always tell? With any woman?"

"Not any woman, no, I have to get to know her a bit first. But then, pretty much, yeah."

"Well, how about Rachel then? Is she -?"

"Yeah, she too, I think for two or three days now. She's always due just before Monica. It's really weird how when women live together for some time, they almost always go on the rag around the same time. Like my sisters."

Chandler could only shake his head. "Wow, the things that you know." Joey's grin broadened and Chandler grinned back, relieved that his roommate seemed to have forgotten about the kissing and the laundry. For the time being at least.

"Yeah well … I guess it's why they're so edgy too. Phoebe too. She's really bummed out. Can't we do something?"

"Actually, now that you mention it, yes, I think we should. How about we all go on a little trip this weekend!"

"A trip? Where?"

"I don't know. Not too far, you know, with the triplets coming any time now ..."

"Hmmm … Oh, how about the beach?"

"No, that's too far, there has to be hospital nearby."

"Right. Well, where else … oh, here's Monica! Maybe she'll know."

"Know what?" said Monica briskly, nodding to Chandler briefly. She had changed into a dark blue sleeveless dress and put her hair into a pony tail. It looked very pretty. No strike that. It was gorgeous. And it did something weird to his stomach. And his chest. What the hell? He thought about kissing and fondling her breasts not an hour ago and he had to hold on to the counter to stop his knees from trembling.

"What we can do with Phoebe to cheer her up. She's feeling so bad because she couldn't come to London. Chandler thought we could all go on a trip with her."

Monica's face lit up. "Wow, that's it! Yeah, we could do that! Take her on a trip! That's a really good idea, Chandler!" He smiled a little nervously at that, not trusting his voice yet.

"So where should we go? Chandler said there'd have to be a hospital nearby because the triplets could come out any moment."

"Right. And it should be close by. She tires easily and needs to rest. So maybe a picnic somewhere?"

"Maybe Central Park?" Chandler suggested. "That's the closest."

And lots of places to hide and get lost in … When Monica smiled at him brilliantly he felt his stomach flutter again. "Yeah, why not. We can ask her right now, she wanted to meet us in the Perk for a nightcap and maybe cards."

"Sure" said Chandler trying to sound casual. "Sounds good. What about you Joe, don't you have a date?"

Joey shrugged. "Not really, but I might go out later. It's still early, right?"

"Yeah." He met Monica's eyes again and gave her a big smile that made her narrow her eyes at him. "What about Rachel, is she coming too? She got back really early from her date, didn't she?"

Monica shot him a death look and then seemingly grew unconcerned. "Yes, well, it was their first date. And apparently Dave wasn't that hot as she thought."

"Yeah, and with her on the rag too …" said Joey wisely and then backed off when Monica glared at him furiously. "What?! It's true! She always acts crazy when she's on it. Just like -"

"Joey, psht, no-" Chandler cut his roommate off before Monica could blow a fuse and to his relief Joey did indeed shut up. Monica took a deep breath, and then her gaze hit on the towels on the counter.

"Actually, I came for these. Thank you for bringing them up."

"You're welcome." Chandler almost didn't dare look as she took up the towels and felt intensely relieved when it turned out the counter had been clean – or at least reasonably so. "Okay, let's go!"

"I'll get the cards" Monica practically ran out of the apartment. "Just let me put these away … Rachel! Rachel! Come on, we're playing cards with Phoebe at the Perk! Rachel ….?" She went into no. 20 and he and Joey heard a muffled argument through the door. After some minutes Monica appeared again, eyes sparkling dangerously.

"She's still changing" she said courtly upon Joey's questioning glance. "She'll join us later. Come on!"

"What about Ross?"

"Oh, he had to leave. He wanted to try to phone Emily again." Monica rolled her eyes. "And Rachel still wants to … oh well. Joey, do me a favor, when she asks you if she should try to get together with him again, just say no."

"She wants to get together with him again? That's crazy! He's married!"

"Right! That's why you should say no! Got it?"

"Got it!" Joey gave her a thumbs-up.

They arrived at Central Perk's and the big couch that Gunther had held free for them, and got themselves coffee and muffins. Chandler sat down next to Monica and was very grateful when Joey decided to look at the paper at the little side table before Phoebe arrived. Monica got out the cards and he leaned in as close as he dared pretending to watch over her shoulder as she shuffled the cards while really looking at her cleavage and surreptitiously breathing in her scent. He couldn't help but fantasizing what it would be like if they were alone and could do it on the couch right there and then, how he would go about it. He would go to his knees in front of her, hook her knees over his shoulders, then push up the skirt of that dress and slide his hands up her legs to her hips, kiss her on the inside of her thighs right up to her mound, slowly ease her out of her panties …

He stopped his thoughts abruptly when she looked at him with her cool blue eyes and realized that he was starting to get an erection, intensely grateful that he was wearing loose pants instead of jeans.

"Are you alright?" she asked quietly and he smiled and nodded, keeping his eyes on the cards.

"Yeah, I'm fine. You know, just … thinking." He desperately wanted to touch her. Maybe if he rested his hand next to her leg or behind her back under the cushion? But then Rachel arrived and got on the big chair where she would see everything and he abandoned the idea again. She was still edgy and hung up about Ross and when he thought about what Joey had said, he realized that it explained a lot. So he didn't hold it against her when she asked for Joey's advice and completely ignored him, although he couldn't help but grinning inwardly when Joey kept his promise to Monica and fobbed her off with a firm 'no'. Her face was just priceless.

And then Phoebe arrived, looking weary and irritable, and immediately became the center of attention as they all wanted to pitch his idea of a trip to her. He used the distraction to shift and turn towards Monica, and then realized that he would have to do something about his erection before it got out of hand. He waited a little to see Phoebe's reaction and was pleased when she seemed quite taken with the idea at first. But when Monica came out with the destination being Central Park, she went into a huff again.

"Central .. Park?!"

"Yeah, all of us, all day!"

"That sucks! I just came from the park! What are we gonna high-five about at the stupid Central Park? Haha, it's right by my house, all right, yoohoo!"

Shoot, he had forgotten how often Phoebe went to the Park or passed by it. She practically lived in it. Oh well, maybe someone would think of a better idea later …

"Well, I'm gonna go home and bask in the triumph of my Central Park idea" he announced casually and got up. Or tried to, but Rachel held him back.

"Hey, whoa-whoa-whoa, hold on there a sec, Mr Kissy." For a moment he almost panicked thinking that she had noticed something between him and Monica, then he realized what she meant and smiled politely as she went into her telling-off mode.

"You know I've been meaning to talk to you about this whole little new European thing you got going on, and I just need to tell you that it makes me very uncomfortable and I just – you know, stop it!"

He sat back and crossed his legs, trying to appear casual and hiding his erection – which thankfully seemed to flag again – at the same time. And Monica had shifted away from him a little, which was all to the good too.

"I was just trying to bring a little culture to the group …"

"That's fine" said Phoebe curtly. "Just don't bring it in my mouth."

"Makes me wanna puke!" Monica exclaimed, as usual trying way too hard to make it believable. He smiled reassuringly at her when she looked at him out of the corner of her eyes to let her know that there were no hard feelings. Literally too, since his erection had faded away again completely.

.

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They played cards for a while until Phoebe had enough and left and Joey volunteered to take her home. Rachel remained in her seat, moping and sulking and then abruptly got up to go to the bathroom. As soon as she had turned her back he grasped for Monica's hand.

"Listen, I didn't mean …" she started and he shushed her again.

"My room tonight?" he asked. "Joey's going to be out late … Please?"

She hesitated and he put on his best pleading hangdog look. "Pleasepleaseplease?"

"Well, alright, but we can't really do anything …"

"Why not? No – I know, I know, but there's so much … else we can do. So much!"

"Really? Like what?" Oh thank god, she really seemed intrigued.

"Well, for a start you could bring your sex toys." She stared at him reproachfully. "Well, you did lose the bet -"

"I did not!"

"Oh? Rachel returning after one and a half hours means she's late? What's early for you then, ten minutes?"

She took a deep breath. "Well, it wasn't … really early. But okay, okay, since you're so hung up about it … You can see it, but not tonight. I'm not bringing it over. It stays in my bedroom. Understood?"

"It …?!"

"Yes. I don't have toyszz plural. Just one. Singular."

"And what is it?"

"You'll see." She grinned at him and he wanted desperately to kiss her.

"Okay, leave whatever it is for another time. But you'll come? Please?" She raised her brows at his pleading, trying a little to play hard to get and then let it go again, giving in.

"Yeah, I will. It could be late though. I don't know when Rachel will go to bed."

"Okay, no problem. I'll wait up."

"Sooo … what did you have in mind for us?"

He winked at her. "You'll see." And winced when she elbowed him in the ribs.

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She was right, it was very late when she finally knocked on the door softly and he let her in. Chandler had stayed up, watching TV and reading to pass the time, drinking coffee to stay awake. Until she came he had been desperately tired and afraid that he would fall asleep in his barcalounger, but as soon as he let her in and they kissed in the living room, his weariness was all but forgotten. When they went to his room with their arms around each other, his heart beat faster and his breath caught.

While he closed both halves of the door (and firmly decided to at least glue them together somehow anytime soon) Monica looked at his bed which he had prepared beforehand with no less than three towels that he had spread across the sheet, plus four whole boxes of tissues on his night stand and last but not least his spandex shorts at the end of the bed, and just shook her head.

"Don't you like it? I thought I'd prepare for any … eventuality. Did I forget anything?"

She smiled and loosened the belt of her bathrobe. "Well, I can't think of anything … yet. But just so you know, I really don't think I'm in the mood –"

"Shsh. I know. It's alright." He took the bathrobe from her and put it over a chair. She was wearing a very sensible kneelength nighty under it which she didn't seem to want to shed either. When he put his arms around her and let his hands wander over her back, he encountered something that felt suspiciously like –

"Whoa, are those your stretch shorts?"

"Yeah, you know, and it seemed such a good idea. They fit much better than yours."

"I don't doubt it. Wow, that's almost like a chastity belt. Are you really that much afraid of what I could try?"

"Well, I thought I could be prepared too" she replied smugly and then leaned closer to him again. "But you know – I hope what you have in mind includes a massage. I really liked that."

He put his head to one side, considering. "Well … you might get lucky there." He kissed her again, rubbing her back and gently steering her towards the bed.

"And now …?" she asked, a little hoarsely already.

"Just lie down ... on your back, yes, on the towels …"

"But what …?"

"I just thought, we could … play doctor?"

She stared. "Huh? Play doctor? You mean, like … doctor and nurses?"

"Well, something like that."

"Chandler, we're not in kindergarten anymore you know."

"I know. It's just as good a name as any, I'm making this up as I go anyway."

"Okay. Just so you know, anything under the stretch pants …"

"I know. Totally your call."

She lay back on the towels, legs primly together and hands folded on her stomach, grinning at him. He got on top of her supporting himself on his hands and knees and grinned back, then leaned in to kiss her gently on the lips, and then on her cheekbone and jaw, letting his lips wander all over her face, taking his time. At last he arrived at her neck where he kissed her throat and the place under her lower jaw and then the sides, sucking a little at the place where her artery pulsed under her skin as if he was a vampire out for her blood. She kept her hands against his chest ready to push him off, but after a while she relaxed and slid them over his shoulders and into his hair at the back of his head. From her neck he proceeded to her shoulders where he kissed the hollows around her clavicles and her chest over her breastbone. Her nighty had a little button tab and he teased each button open with one hand and kissed the spot that was thus laid bare. When there were no more buttons left, he gently stroked her breasts through the fabric and kissed them as far down as could go. At least she didn't wear a bra.

"You know, since I'm now your doctor, you should tell me where it hurts, you know."

"My doctor? I like that. Well, Dr. Bing, I'm not really sure where it hurts. It's … really hard to tell."

"Hmm. Then we'll have to find out. What about … here?" He circled her nipple with his finger and she nodded slowly.

"And … here?" Her other nipple which apparently was quite painful too. As was her navel and her ribs seemed to be affected quite badly as well. He went down on her skipping the stretch pants area mostly and examined her legs thoroughly through the nightie. When he got to her feet, he kissed her ankles and insteps and then proceeded upwards over her calves and knees until his head ended up under the nighty and she started to squirm. At last she couldn't bear it anymore and sat up to get out of the nighty. He took it from her and got up to put it to the bathrobe over the chair, then he suddenly smacked his head.

"Whoa, I totally forgot ..." And he got a lighter from the drawer in his nightstand and started to light candles that stood on his nightstand, the shelf over the headboard, his chair and in the window and that she only noticed now. When he switched off his lamp, the bedroom was bathed in soft golden flickering candlelight. Monica had gotten up on her elbows and just stared.

"Wow … this is – wow."

He climbed on top of her again and gently pushed her back. "Do you like it?"

"Oh yeah. It's beautiful. But … isn't it too dark for your … examination?"

"No. Not for me."

He kept his hands on her stomach and continued kissing his way up her legs just until the edge of the pants. When he put his lips on her belly just under the navel again, her grip on his head tightened and let go again. At last he straightened again.

"Alright, that's your front side done. Now turn around please. I think your back is really the problem."

"Is it serious, doctor?" she asked coyly as she turned on her stomach.

"We'll see … oh yeah, I see the problem right here … And he kissed her on her spine right between her shoulder blades which made her shiver, and then started to massage her back just over her buttocks with both hands. She didn't resist when he pushed the shorts a little further down and he left them just where her buttocks began. He started his massage with little circular strokes which gradually widened until each stroke brought his hands from the small of her back right up to her shoulders and down her sides again. Monica squirmed against the mattress and sighed deeply. After some time her sighs became loader and turned to moans.

"Wow, Ch- doctor, have you been taking lessons from Phoebe?"

He chuckled. "No, just remembered what she did from the one time she massaged me."

"When was that?"

"Ages ago. She needed the money, and I had a bad back from sitting in the office too long."

"Mmmh. Well, that really feels so good, doctor. I fact I think, it doesn't hurt anymore."

"Are you sure? These cases can be very tricky, you know."

"Uh-huh. But I think, it's your turn now." She turned around and sat up, pushing him back on his knees.

"What?"

"Like I said. Come on, lie down. No, on your back please." He did, and she straddled him, sitting on his thighs.

"But I don't hurt. Not anywhere."

"I'm the doctor now, and I will decide that." She pushed up his t-shirt up under his arms and he pulled it over his head and threw it to the foot of the bed. Monica then bent forward and gently kissed him on the nipples, teasing them with her teeth.

"Ouououch … careful .."

"Don't worry, I won't chew them off." She went deeper, kissing his ribs and stomach, trailing a finger in his chesthair. When she reached the area under his navel and let her lips wander over his pelvis bones and the skin between them and his groin he twitched and drew in his breath sharply.

"Why, doctor, are you ticklish?"

"Aaahh … nnn- um, yes!"

"Oh my. I'm so sorry … or not."

"Aaahh … um, argh … what are you doing?"

"Playing doctor, what did you think?" And with that she firmly tugged his pyjama bottoms down over his legs, baring his penis, which was already twitching nervously. She lowered her head and kissed it gently, from the root down to the tip. He started breathing harder but stayed still, just held her by her shoulders and the back of her neck, burying his hands in her hair. When his legs twitched beneath her she rose a little and made him draw up his knees, then knelt between them and started to stroke his penis and gently massage its root as it slowly grew bigger and thicker.

"Mon, you really don't have to –"

"Sh. I know. I want to." When he was fully erect she closed her lips around the tip and slowly took him into her mouth, letting him slide deeper and deeper inside. He held his breath and nearly froze, thrilled and aroused and completely freaked at the same time. The feel of her tongue alone drove him crazy.

"Aarrghh … Mon … I can't … Oh god I can't hold it …"

She just looked at him and pushed him back with one hand when he tried to sit up, and he let himself fall back and closed his eyes, concentrating on not giving in, not letting go … He managed to hold out for some more minutes, and then took her head in his heads and drew her up, trembling. She let go reluctantly, and just in time for him to grab a towel and let go into it, shaking and shuddering.

"Wow, good thing you had a towel ready, isn't it?"

He put the balled up towel on the floor, then let himself fell back and closed his eyes, panting. "I'll say!"

"But you know … you could have – you know."

"In your mouth? No, Mon, as much as I want that – no."

"Why not? I read somewhere that semen is quite – nutritious. Lots of proteins ..."

He sat up again and balled up the towel. "I really couldn't do that. Well, not now. Maybe … later, one day."

She smiled at him and then laughed. "Okay. One day. Thank you doctor."

He reached out for her and drew her down over him, wrapping his arms around her. "You are welcome, doctor. Anytime."

She settled on him as he rubbed her back, sighing contentedly into their kiss, and didn't resist when he pushed one his hands under the stretch pants and slid his fingers over her buttocks, gently running one fingertip along her crack. When it went deeper however she stiffened.

"Um … don't …"

"Okay. So … I take it that – backdoor stuff – is out?"

"Well … yeah. Pretty much I'm afraid. Do you really want it?"

He considered. "No. I mean I've thought about it, and if you wanted it, I would too – maybe - but I don't really need it, and if you don't want it, then it's out."

"But … have you done it before?"

"Ummm … no, not really. Well, once I came close … over the doormat so to speak."

"And …? Did you like it?"

"I don't know. Maybe a little. It was - weird."

She chuckled. "I'll say. Well, I don't want to do that. Not now, not ever. I think it's gross."

"I know. It's okay. But … can I still touch you – there?"

She held still for a moment, considering and he was afraid again that he'd gone too far. Then -

"Yes, doctor, you can touch. But - not now though. Maybe later, one day …"

He breathed out again and tightened his arms around her.

"No problem doctor."

"Thank you, doctor."

"You are welcome."


End file.
